Breathless
by waterlilylf
Summary: Chapter 28. In which Duo starts to wonder if he's fallen down a rabbit hole..13x2. All other pairings liable to change...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gundam Wing. Alas…Or an Irish Wolfhound.

Thanks, as ever, to Kaeru Shisho for proofing.

**Free to a Good Home:**

'Are you really sure about this?' Duo swung his car alongside the kerb with a flourish. Admittedly, it was difficult not to drive a kingfisher-blue Mercedes coupe without a certain amount of panache.

'I'm really sure,' Treize answered composedly. 'I've told you; I'm hardly going to change my mind at this stage.'

Duo muttered something that his lover didn't quite catch. 'I just want to make sure this is what you want too. Not something I'm pressuring you into.'

'You never pressure me into anything. And I did ask you what you wanted for your birthday.'

'Yeah, but you probably thought I'd say something like a new car.'

Treize grinned. 'I think you're going to need a new car anyway. This one's a little small for three, don't you think?'

'I never thought of that.' Duo drummed those long fingers against the dashboard for a second. He adored his car; a gift from Treize for their first Christmas together. 'You really are sure?'

'Oh, I'm very sure. After all, the last stray I took in turned out to be quite a success.'

Duo gave him a cutely affronted snort. 'I'm the one who found you, remember?'

_How could I ever forget?_

Treize suppressed a little shiver, thinking of the night they'd met. The night Duo had broken into the Khushrenda Art Gallery and given him a reason to go on living.

'I'm the one who took you home with me, _remember_?' he murmured, and then stopped any further debate by grabbing Duo and kissing him.

'Treize, don't!'

'You don't want me to do this?' Treize sucked at Duo's deliciously full lower lip, finishing up with a gentle nibble. 'Are you quite sure about that?'

'No! But these adoption people might think we're unsuitable if they see us making out in broad daylight.'

'No one could ever find you unsuitable for anything,' Treize said firmly, resolving that Duo's next car would have tinted windows.

It was all nonsense anyway. His family name, and the substantial donation, he'd already made to the society, guaranteed that he and Duo wouldn't be found _unsuitable_, even if they had sex on the roof of the car in the centre of the busiest street in Sanque.

'Stop worrying. It's going to be fine.'

'Sure.' Duo gave him a poor attempt at his usual bright smile, and swung out of the car. 'Do I look OK? The sort of person this adoption lady will approve of?'

'You look just as beautiful as always,' Treize said sincerely. Duo was wearing more conservative clothing than usual; a dark purple shirt that echoed his eyes and tailored dress pants instead of his usual tight jeans. He'd even wanted to take off his earring, but Treize had persuaded him to leave it. 'I'd certainly want you to take me home.'

'That's just as well, since I'm planning to.' Duo's swinging hand bumped against his as they walked up the driveway and grabbed it, letting him go as they knocked on the front door.

Treize found himself automatically scanning the few paintings on the wall of the small office they were shown to; an occupational hazard for the owner of an art gallery, and caught Duo, who'd walked in first, grinning at him.

'Don't bother. A couple of splashy watercolours and a really bad landscape in oils.'

'Nothing worth stealing then?' Treize jibed, and got an elbow in the ribs as a retort.

'Behave yourself. You know I've reformed.'

'Indeed? I don't remember you being so reformed last night. You were rather delightfully wicked if I recall correctly. I'm positive that the thing you do with your tongue is illegal in certain countries.'

'And if _I _recall correctly, you weren't complaining,' Duo retorted, and then shut up as a tall woman walked into the office.

'Mr. Khushrenada and Mr. Maxwell? I'm Mrs. Doonan. You're a little early for your appointment.'

'Yeah, we weren't quite sure how long it would take to drive here, and we thought the traffic might be bad. Uh, we filled in those forms you sent us on line, but we printed out some spare copies as well. Just in case you'd lost them or something.' Duo fumbled the papers across the desk. Dear Lord, he was nervous about this, poor darling. He normally never babbled like that. 'We left a lot of the details blank actually. We're not really that fussed about what we take; we just want to give a good home to some poor stray that no one else wants.'

Mrs. Doonan gave him an approving smile. 'That's very generous of you. I see size isn't a problem. We have some large dogs seeking homes at the moment, and most people prefer puppies or small dogs.'

'Not really. Our place is pretty big.'

Treize smiled to himself. _Our _place. It had taken almost a year for Duo to use that particular pronoun naturally, and hearing it still made him glow.

'We would like one that's been house-trained, though.' Duo added, shooting his partner a mischievous look. '_Someone _is slightly anal about oriental rugs and antique wooden floor panels being damaged.'

The woman nodded. 'We try to have all our strays house-trained before they are adopted. Although there may be some slight accidents at first. It can take animals a little while to adjust to a new environment.'

'That's no problem,' Duo said quickly. 'We know all that. And we've got a friend who works with animals; he's going to help us with training and everything.'

'I'm sure whichever dog you pick will have a perfect home,' the woman assured him, scanning the papers Duo had given her. 'I see you both travel a lot. What will happen to the dog while you're away?'

'We have friends who live close by,' Treize told her smoothly. 'They've already offered to dog-sit when we're away. We also have a small domestic staff, who will be more than happy to look after our new pet.'

Mrs. Doonan gave an approving nod. 'I see. Now, why don't you have a look around outside? The dogs are all in their runs at the moment, and I'll just process your details, and be out in about ten minutes.'

'That sounds great!' Duo jumped to his feet, leading the way outside.

Of course, he had to zero in on the puppies occupying the first run they saw. 'Oh, Treize, listen to this! 'Our names are Jack and Jill. We're three months old and we're Jack Russell Terriers. We love playing and cuddles and we'd love our own family with some people who would love us back.' 'Maybe we should get two,' Duo mused. 'They're so cute! Then we'd get to have a dog each, and they'd be great company for each other, and they could…'

'Have a wonderful time chewing every single item we possess?' Treize suggested, feeling a slight pang for his handmade Italian shoes. He privately thought the prose style was sickeningly sentimental, but he supposed it worked. 'Besides, they're already taken. It says so at the end.'

'Oh, I didn't see that bit.' Duo sounded disconsolate. 'That sucks. They'd have been perfect for us.'

'Well, we did say _one _dog,' Treize reminded him gently. 'Preferably an adult. Remember?'

'Oh, yeah. They're just so cute. Sorry.'

'If you really want a puppy, then of course we'll get one,' Treize suggested nobly, mentally consigning his favourite footwear to death by tiny, needle-sharp teeth. 'I still have that list of local dog-breeders, and we can always hire a professional trainer.'

Duo shrugged, withdrawing his fingers from the puppies' run and glancing around to make sure they were alone. 'Nah. Like the lady said. everyone wants the cute little pups, right? I'd really like to take one of the older dogs, that no one else wants to take, and give it a nice home.'

'You know I want you,' Treize said quietly, casting a quick glance around to check they were alone before taking Duo in his arms.

'I know that. But I'm not sure that all this talk about wanting is really appropriate in the circumstances.'

'I always want you,' Treize breathed. 'Regardless of the circumstances.'

'Yeah, me too.' Duo pressed against him for a moment; a definite proof of the wanting, and then pulled back.

'Look at this one. 'My name's Laragh and I'm eight months old. I was living on the street by myself when a kind lady brought me here. I'm an Irish Wolfhound, so I need a lot of space to run around and I eat a lot! I'm very nervous with strangers, but I'd love to meet some kind people who could give me a home.'' Oh, poor thing. Isn't she cute?'

'She's going to be enormous when she's fully grown,' Treize estimated. It was hard to tell at the moment; the dog was curled up in one corner of her run, tightly tucked into as small a space as she could manage.

'She's very shy with strangers,' Mrs. Doonan joined them, sliding the bolt to Laragh's door open. 'Would you like to go in and see her?'

'Yes, please.' Duo squatted down in front of the dog, scarcely daring to breathe as he extended one hand to be sniffed.

'Your friend has a way with animals.' The woman sounded surprised as Laragh uncurled herself and swiped her tongue across Duo's hand.

Treize smiled to himself; Duo could charm anyone when he chose. Abused dogs; recalcitrant customers at the gallery; desperately lonely art dealers.

'What's wrong with her?' Duo glanced up at them, his eyes as big as the dog's, who was currently trying to get into his lap.

'She's had a rough time, haven't you, baby?' Mrs. Doonan bent down and patted Laragh's head. 'The police brought her in about three weeks ago. The vet thinks that she may have been thrown out of a moving car, judging by her injuries.'

'Is it normal for people to abandon pedigree dogs?' Treize asked, over Duo's gasp of horror. 'I imagine she would have been expensive.'

The woman shrugged. 'People buy cute little puppies. They don't realise how big they're going to grow, nor how much attention a dog needs. Wolfhounds cost a fortune to feed properly. I imagine her owners got tired of her, and simply decided to abandon her. It's tragic, but it happens all the time. We think she was living on the streets by herself for a few weeks; she was very badly malnourished by the time she came to us.'

'Is she OK now?'

'Physically, she's fine. Or she will be when her paw heals totally. She's very nervous with strangers, although she has a sweet nature. Everyone who works here has fallen in love with her, but we all have a houseful of our own dogs, and we're being very careful to find the perfect home for her. This the first time I've ever seen her take to a stranger like this.'

'He tends to have that effect.' Treize smiled down at the two of them; and two pairs of eyes gazed beseechingly up at him, one the colour of twilight and the other liquid brown. 'I rather think we've found our dog, don't you?' .

'Really?' Duo's face lit up. 'We can take her home with us? Now?'

'The usual procedure is that prospective owners take the dog home for a couple of days, just to see how you're suited, and at some point one of our volunteers will call by and check that everything is going well.'

'Sure. Now would be great,' Duo started enthusiastically, and Treize laid one hand on his arm.

'Would tomorrow be possible? We have plans for tonight. We can pick her up in the afternoon if that's suitable.' He slid his cheque book out of his breast pocket. 'We wanted to make a small donation toward your excellent charity.'

Mrs. Doonan flushed slightly, claiming the money Treize had already given was more than sufficient, but she allowed him to press the cheque on her.

'What plans?' Duo demanded suspiciously, when they were back in the car. 'You aren't arranging some kind of surprise birthday party, are you?'

Treize smiled. 'I do have a small celebration planned, yes. But it's strictly private. Now, you don't need to pout, my lovely. You're going to enjoy every minute of it, and we'll collect Laragh tomorrow. It wouldn't really have been practical to take her home now; we need to purchase food and a basket first. And get a dog license.'

'I'm not pouting,' Duo muttered, but he looked slightly mollified.

'Oh, yes you are. And it's delightful. I thought it might be nice to have one last evening to ourselves before we become responsible dog-owning adults.'

'Responsible, right!' Duo snorted, but one corner of that lush mouth had quirked up despite itself. 'You make it pretty hard to stay pissed off with you, you know that? So what are all these plans of yours?'

'Nothing much.' Treize laid one hand on his boyfriend's knee, sure that Duo wouldn't brush him off now, and squeezed. 'I thought we'd just have a little light supper together, and then perhaps a soak in the hot tub, and then…see where matters progress.'

'A light supper, you said!' Duo's eyes widened as he saw the delicacies laid out for them on the small table in their bedroom. Educating him in fine dining - as opposed to cheap junk food that possessed less taste or nutrients than its plastic packaging - had been a pleasure. Of course, everything to do with Duo was pure pleasure.

Being Duo, though, he fretted and fumed about the expense and the environmental impact of flying in two dozen iced Galway Bay oysters, or a chocolate cake from Vienna. Treize did agree with him in principle; everyone had a responsibility toward those less fortunate, and the environment, but everyone deserved to be a little extravagant occasionally.

'Treize,' he said uncertainly. 'We talked about how you were going to stop doing this sort of stuff. There's enough here to feed a family of ten for a week; no way are going to eat it all.'

'But it's your birthday, darling. Don't I have the right to pamper you on your special day?'

Duo sighed, his mouth hovering somewhere between a scowl and a smile. 'How come you always win?'

'Because you are gracious enough to indulge me?' Trieze suggested smoothly. 'Of course, if you're not hungry just yet, we could eat a little later and find some way to give you an appetite.'

Duo grinned. 'If you're planning to keep my mind off food, you'd better have something pretty special planned.'

'You're so demanding.' Treize licked the curve of Duo's ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth and relishing how the smooth flesh contrasted with the tiny uncut amethyst that pierced the lobe.

'Not up to it?' Duo teased, drawing one knee smoothly across Treize's crotch. 'Not feeling your age, are you?'

'You're the one who's a year older today,' Treize retorted, bringing his right palm against Duo's firm backside and making him squeal. 'And, I assure you, I am more than _up to _anything.'

'Words are cheap, lover,' Duo glowed up at him. 'You planning to do more than just talk?'

'On the bed, then, ' Treize instructed softly. 'Face down.'

Duo, fully clothed, was beautiful. Duo, naked and sprawled over their indigo velvet quilt, was utterly mesmerising. Treize had arranged the room carefully earlier, while Duo was at the gallery; rose petals scattered thickly over the bed; beeswax candles here and there; more roses in the heavy crystal vase on his dresser.

The flowers had been the Khushrenada emblem for centuries. They twined around the family crest, were carved into the wood-panelling downstairs, and wreathed around the posts of the bed in their bedroom. The bed on which his beloved was currently lying in all his glory.

Treize selected the most perfect rosebud from the vase; a deep, deep red, the colour of the finest Burgundy and brushed it gently over Duo's shoulders. He squirmed, just a little, as the droplets of cool water fell on his warm flesh. 'Oooh.'

'Does that feel good?' Flicking the stem around, Treize trailed the flower down the fluid line of his lover's back to the sweet curve of his hip.

'A bit weird, but yeah, it's good. Oh!'

'And that?' He drifted the rosebud further south, just touching the cleft between the perfect buttocks.

'Mmm. That feels nice.

'Turn over, darling. And close your eyes.'

'What for?'

'It's a surprise.' Treize bent over Duo's chest, licked one hard little nipple, and then bit down gently. 'I promise, seraph, you'll like it.'

Duo considered for a moment, and then those ridiculously long lashes fluttered closed. 'I'm not any kind of angel.'

As always, when Duo acquiesced to his demands like that, Treize felt a rush of pure alpha male control. His lover was never precisely submissive, but God, it felt good to know he - _only _he - could get him to obey. Duo, of course, would castrate him with a rusty butter knife if he ever dared to verbalise such a thing.

He looked so beautiful like that. A fallen angel, with his glorious hair loose and rose petals here and there on his skin.

No, not an angel; a seraph. He thought the name suited Duo. He disliked the modern image of angels; insipid, fluffy, feel-good creatures. Seraphs were beings of power, though; the highest of the nine orders of angels.

He'd carefully left the silk cord in the top drawer of his dresser, and he watched Duo's face as he took his wrists in one hand, binding them together, and securing the rope to one of the bedposts. Duo was a very talented escape artist; not something that mattered most of the time, but for once Treize wanted him secure.

'So what happens next?' Duo smiled up at him, his incredible eyes shining with love and trust.

'Hmmm?' Treize murmured casually. 'This, perhaps.' Sliding on to the bed, he bit his way down Duo's neck and throat, leaving a scattering of little red marks on the pale skin. Duo was just delicious like this, moaning and writhing against him.

'I asked you a question this morning. Do you have an answer for me yet?' Duo ignored him, thrusting his hips forward. He'd pretended not to hear Treize the first time either, hiding his face in his pillow and the masses of his unbound hair. 'Well?' Treize pressed.

'Look, can't we talk about this some other time? I was kind of enjoying what you were doing.'

'So very stubborn, little one.' Treize sighed. 'I've brought this up a dozen times, Duo, and every time you brush it aside 'til later. But _later _never happens, does it?

'Well, maybe it would if you didn't keep pressuring me.'

'I've mentioned it perhaps ten times in the past year, and each time I've let you find a way to distract me. I hardly think that's _pressuring _you.'

'You've tied me up! How is that not putting me under pressure?' He flexed his wrists, brow creasing when the knots didn't give. Oh, God. He was going to be furious if he felt he was trapped.

'Duo, love, just listen to me. Please. Why can't we just talk about this? That's all I want.'

'Let me the _fuck _go, Treize. Now!'

'Just tell me why you're so opposed to it.'

'Screw you!'

'If that's what you want, of course. When you answer my question.'

'Let me go this minute, you bastard,' Duo grated, 'or I swear to God, you'll never see me again.'

He'd always thought that _blood running cold _was a mere figure of speech, suitable for Gothic melodramas. It was more than that though. Fumbling to loosen the knots, he felt the blood in his veins freeze over. He couldn't survive without Duo. He wouldn't want to.

'I'm sorry. I'm sorry.' He was lavishing Duo with apologies and kisses as the cords fell away and Duo sat up, rubbing his wrists. Treize didn't they could be too sore; he'd been bound for less than five minutes, and he'd been very careful when he'd put them on, but it gave Duo something to do, space to think. That was always so important to him.

'I'm sorry if I hurt you. I only wanted to try to get you to discuss this.' He proffered a weak smile. 'It would be such a wonderful memory if you accepted my proposal on your birthday.'

'It's not my fucking birthday,' Duo snapped. 'It's just a date you picked out for me so you could pretend I had one.'

'Was that such a terrible thing?' Even to his own ears, Treize's voice sounded impossibly forlorn. 'I just wanted you to have one day where you could feel special.'

'Oh, love.' Duo's arms flew around him; he was suddenly entangled in his partner's long limbs, enmeshed in those wild masses of hair. 'You make me feel special all the time. Always. No one's ever made me feel like that before.'

'You are amazingly special,' Treize told him. 'If you weren't, I wouldn't love you so much. I wouldn't have done any of this.'

'I just don't get why it's a big deal.' Duo said finally. 'We're happy, right? I'm never going to leave you; what difference does a ring make?'

'It's important because I love you. And because the thing that terrifies me most in the world is losing you.'

'You won't,' Duo said instantly. 'Come on, Treize. I'm like one of those stray dogs at the shelter. Keep feeding me and you won't get rid of me.'

'You've left before. And you threatened to walk away not five minutes ago.'

'I came back,' Duo whispered. 'Both times. A ring isn't a sure guarantee of anything. Not unless you put some sort of tracking device on it. Or have it programmed so I can't leave the house.'

'Don't joke about this,' Treize pleaded. 'Not today. I know you. If you make that commitment to me, you'll take it seriously. If you hate the idea of marriage so much, at least tell me why.'

'Tell me why it's important to you,' Duo challenged, glaring at him.

'You know perfectly well why it's important. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I want the whole world to know it. I want to make that commitment to you. Now, your turn.'

Duo shrugged. 'You're not really going to make me say it out loud, are you? I would have thought it was obvious?'

'The only obvious reason I can imagine for why you keep refusing to marry me; that you're not in love with me. Is that it?' Dear God, surely it wasn't that; that Duo refused even to discuss it because he didn't love him enough.

'No!' Duo snapped. 'I love you more than anything. You _know _that!'

'What is it then?'

'Fine, if you're really gonna make me say it. I'm not good enough for you.'

'_What_? That's absurd. You're perfect. Beautiful, smart, sexy, charming. You're everything I've ever wanted, that I could ever want. I still don't know what I did to deserve you.'

'I'm nothing! I'm a street kid who was a thief, remember?'

'A most accomplished thief,' Treize retorted, smiling slightly. 'You stole my heart after all, the first time we met.'

Duo snorted rudely. 'Y'know, for someone who professes to hate sentimentality, you're awfully good at it.'

'You, my beauty, are trying to change the subject. As usual. Of course, you are good enough for me. I have no intention of letting your silly little inferiority complex stop us marrying.'

Duo gave him a level glance. 'I've done a lot of stuff I'm not exactly proud of, y'know. What do you think it would do for the gallery's reputation if all that got out?'

'That's pure poppycock,' Treize grinned. If his darling's past was the only barrier to Duo accepting his proposal, well he could annihilate those particular objections with ease. Silly little fool; as if any of that mattered. 'The art world is hardly an ethical place. You know that perfectly well. I doubt there's a dealer in the universe who hasn't knowingly sold a forgery, or acquired a painting under dubious circumstances. If your skills were known, there would probably be a huge demand for your services.'

Muttering something under his breath, Duo twisted around and rested his head against his lover's shoulder. 'Your family won't be too happy about it.'

'My family adores you. Even my Aunt Lucasta who dislikes everyone on principle.'

'Whatever. They don't mind me being your bit of rough on the side, but they sure as hell wouldn't want you to marry me.'

'Need I remind you that my relations weren't exactly beating a path to my door, after I almost lost the gallery? They were more than happy to wash their hands off me when it looked like I was bankrupt. I don't owe them a single thing, and I intend to marry whom I chose; the person who actually stood by me then. And that person happens to be you.'

'I don't get a say in any of this?'

'Certainly. You get to say 'yes'.' Treize ran a loose strand of hair through his fingers. It felt wonderful, like skeins of cool silk. He'd washed it in the bath this morning, using his favourite rose-scented toiletries, and then he'd made love to Duo with the wet, slick tendrils sliding over their bodies.

'It wouldn't work,' his beautiful lover muttered stubbornly. 'You need someone classy, to be your date for all those fancy shindigs you go to.'

'I already have someone classy. You.'

'Yeah, and I never fit in. Everyone stares at me! I always think I'm going to be slung out on my ass for stealing the silver, or something.'

'Nonsense,' Treize said crisply. 'People may well stare at you, but I assure you, I have never noticed any looks directed at you that weren't wholly admiring. Furthermore, I have overheard many envious comments toward myself. If I ever left you alone for two seconds at those shindigs, as you call them, I guarantee someone would try to run away with you. Now, do you have any other objections?'

'Your name.'

'Treize? I thought you liked it. You seem to be like screaming it under the right circumstances.' He twisted a nipple between two fingers, listening to the sweet sound of his name on Duo's lips.

'Your other name,' Duo muttered. 'Duo Khushrenada sounds stupid. And it's too long; I'd be days signing my name to anything.'

'I think it sounds charming.'

'Treize Maxwell,' Duo shot back. 'D'you think that's charming too?'

'Duo Khushrenada-Maxwell.'

'Treize Maxwell-Khushrenada.'

'Very well. Mr. Maxwell it stays then.' He'd won the war; there was no point in fighting this one rearguard skirmish. He would have rather liked to bestow his name on Duo, simply to give his lover that feeling of belonging but it obviously wasn't to be.

'It just - means something to me, you know.' Duo said, his voice little more than a whisper. 'I know it's not my real name, but it's my way to remember the church and everyone who died that night.'

'I know.' Treize kissed him again, softly, on each eyelid. Duo's beautiful eyes were just a little moist, as they often were when he talked about the Maxwell Church. 'I do know it's important to you. It isn't that I meant you to forget; I just thought you might like us to share a name, so you'd truly feel you belonged with me.'

'I do feel that. I always have.' Duo lifted his fingers, firmly entwined with Trieze's. 'How could I not know that, the way you're so good to me? I suppose I could do the whole Maxwell-Khushrenada thing.'

'Perhaps,' Treize shrugged. 'It's not something we have to decide this minute, after all. Although I would prefer not to have _too _long an engagement. Early Summer would be a lovely time for a wedding.'

'I don't want a big fancy ceremony or anything.'

'Hmmm. We'll see.'

'Treize! I'm serious. Just a very small, simple service. On the beach would be nice, or even here, in the rose garden. What are you grinning at?'

'You, seraph. You do realise that in the space of a few minutes, you've gone from refusing to have me, to dictating what sort of marriage ceremony you would prefer? I imagine you're going to be a very demanding fiancé, especially given that I haven't even formally proposed yet.'

Duo groaned. 'Oh, man, you're not planning to get down on one knee and all that, are you?'

'Why ever not? You normally don't complain when I'm on my knees in front of you.' Kissing Duo's hand, he slid to the ground. 'Everything I own, especially my heart, is already yours. I ask only for your hand in marriage, and for the right to love you for the rest of our lives.'

'Oh, God.' Duo, his insouciant, easy-going lover, was apparently lost for words for once in his life. 'Yes. Please.' He rubbed one hand across his eyes, and when he looked at Treize, his usual grin was firmly in place. 'Now I've done what you wanted, can we get back to what we were doing?'

'I _knew _you were going to be terribly demanding.' Treize knew perfectly well that his long-suffering tone didn't quite match up to the broad smile that stretched across his face.

It might be Duo's birthday, but Treize was the one who'd been given the gift.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing.

Note: This story was originally published as a one shot called 'Free to a Good Home'; but when a second chapter popped into my head I needed a new title.

Many thanks to Kaeru Shisho, purveyor of perfect endings, for kindly proofing this despite the fact that I totally ignored her evil plot suggestions, for keeping track of Duo's hair and for politely avoiding my avoidance issues. Thanks also to everyone who commented on 'Free'.

**Chapter II:**

So lovely in the morning, his love. A perfectly placed shaft of sunlight fell across that glorious hair, burnishing it with warm bronze-gold glints, and gilding all that pale, ivory skin; flawless except for a few tiny marks, scattered like rose petals across his body, where Treize had marked him with lips or teeth. Duo's spine was a necklace of pearls strung on a bed of white silk, leading to smooth, rounded buttocks that invited the touch of a lover's hand.

The very picture of sweet submission, if one discounted the fact that he was fast asleep. A shame, really, to wake him, but oh, so very irresistible.

Duo had braided his hair haphazardly at some point during the night. Always a bone of contention between them; Treize loved seeing and feeling it loose while Duo preferred it neatly out of the way. Still, there were some advantages to the braid. It made a very effective wake-up instrument, for one.

Smiling, Treize brushed the very tip of the messy braid across Duo's mouth. The tip of a pink tongue flicked out, reacting to the brief touch.

Oh, lovely.

Trailing the strands of hair across Duo's cheek made him shift slightly, and mutter something. He was going to be so grouchy when he finally woke up, if Treize wasn't careful. Duo Maxwell was very definitely not a morning person. Waking him in a good mood tended to be an exercise in diplomacy; not easy, but all too rewarding if accomplished correctly.

Following the hair with one finger, stroking across his love's face, Treize was rewarded by Duo's mouth curving into a faint smile.

'Good morning, my heart.'

Those amazingly long lashes fluttered open, and Duo looked at him; a flash of deep indigo.

'How come you're always so damn cheerful in the morning?'

'How can I be otherwise, when I wake up beside you?'

'Oh, that's lovely.' Duo melted against him. He could take compliments, sometimes. At other times, he would just brush them off with a scowl and say he didn't like flattery. 'Hey. Where's Laragh?'

'Stretch your legs.' Treize grinned as his lover did just that, and gasped as his feet encountered a warm, furry body at the bottom of the bed.

'How the hell did she get under the blankets?'

'She seems to have your knack of breaking and entering. You know, we can't make a habit of this, love. It's not fair to her; we've already agreed she can't sleep in our room, and now she's going to be expecting it every night.'

'I know,' Duo said softly. 'I know you're right. But it was her first night with us. She sounded so lonely, and we'd taken her away from her home and her friends and she didn't really know if we were going to be kind or mistreat her. It was just so horrible hearing her cry like that and it _was _her first night with us. She'll be more used to us this evening.'

'I hope so.' Treize said, resolving that it wouldn't happen again. It wouldn't have happened in the first place, if Duo hadn't issued that ultimatum; either Laragh came up to their room or he would be sleeping downstairs with her. There was no way he could have permitted _that_; Duo belonged with him, in their bed, even if they had to share it with a whole pack of wolves.

'She looks so cute,' Duo said indulgently, pulling back the sheets to reveal his sleeping pet. 'And she must have felt safe and comfortable with us if she fell asleep.'

'Why wouldn't she be comfortable? She's lying on the finest Irish linens.'

'Like she knows it's part of her heritage,' Duo grinned.

'Well, we're not lining her basket with our sheets.' Not the antique ones anyway; hand-embroidered with the Khushrenada crest. Or maybe it would be worth the sacrifice of some bed- linen, to ensure a good night's sleep.

'What else would you like me to do to make her feel at home?' Treize teased. 'Paint the house green? Get some leprechauns for the rose garden? Have shamrocks carved into the bed?"

'Mmm.' Duo wound both arms around his neck and pressed closer. 'D'you know what I'd really, really, _really _like? More than anything in the universe?'

'It's yours,' Treize said instantly. He could never refuse his beloved anything, especially when his beloved was naked, and wrapped around him and looking at him like that.

'What I'd just love,' Duo murmured, pressing a trail of soft kisses along his partner's jaw line and smiling beatifically, 'is breakfast.'

'Is it now? I believe it's your turn.'

'I know.' Those huge indigo eyes gazed up at him soulfully, lashes fluttering. 'But if I have to walk all the way downstairs, and cook, and then come back up here carrying a tray, I'll be so tired that I won't have energy for anything else and I'll probably just fall straight back asleep.'

'That would be bad. Of course, if certain people didn't object to us having a live-in housekeeper, we could just call the kitchen and order something.'

Duo nodded. 'But then we couldn't have sex all over the house, and you couldn't walk around naked.'

He'd give in of course; he always did with Duo, but it wouldn't hurt to make him wait a little. 'Breakfast, hmm? And what would your heart desire this morning?'

'Desire?' Duo's voice was just a little groggy as his lover bent down and licked across his chest. Treize teased a nipple until the deep violet eyes had begun to glaze over and then lifted his head.

'Do pay attention, my heart. We were discussing food.'

'Something really gooey and messy and sticky that I can smear all over you and then lick off?' Duo suggested.

'Now, _that _sounds like a good idea.' One last, lingering kiss and Treize eased himself out of bed. 'Shall I take Laragh with me? She might need to go out. And she will be a little superfluous when I come back.'

'Planning on coming, are you?' Duo laughed up at him. 'Yes, please. Maybe you could give her some breakfast too.'

Treize kissed him and pulled on a dressing gown. He wouldn't normally have bothered, but they'd both discovered the previous night that full nudity wasn't the best idea around a large dog with an inquisitive nose, and sharp claws.

Ten minutes later, there was porridge simmering, coffee percolating, and a tray carefully arranged. Perfect. Especially when Duo padded barefoot into the kitchen. He'd pulled on his favourite, faded jeans stray curls and tendrils of hair were making a gallant attempt to escape from the loose braid. The perfect sight on a lazy Sunday morning.

'I thought you were too tired to trek all the way down here.'

'I got lonely without you,' Duo said simply, slipping both arms around the taller man's waist from behind and resting his cheek on Treize's shoulder. 'What are you making?'

Treize grinned. 'As requested, something sticky and messy and gooey for smearing purposes.'

'You spoil me.'

'I do try. It should be another five minutes or so. And I've fed Laragh.'

Hearing her name, the dog looked up uncertainly from her bowl.

'Hey, baby. It's OK.' Duo dropped to his knees and hugged her. 'She's still pretty nervous, isn't she? Oh, there's the 'phone ringing. Shall I answer it?'

'Definitely not. People who call this early on a Sunday don't deserve to be spoken to.'

The 'phone clicked into voicemail and Quatre Winner's voice

'Good morning. This is Quatre Winner.'

'Better get it.' Duo decided. 'You know what he's like; he'll just talk for about an hour otherwise, and clog up the entire mail service. 'Hey, Quat.'

'Duo! Good morning! How's the little puppy? Did she sleep all right last night?'

'She did once we took her into bed with us.'

Quatre gave a little crow of laughter. 'I _knew _you'd end up doing that. She must be so cute! Do you think I could come and see her later?'

'Yeah, she's super adorable but not all that little. And you can come and see her whenever you like. The only thing is, I'm not sure what we're doing today, so maybe you could call over this evening. You could come and have dinner with us if you liked.'

'I'd love that, if it's not too much trouble. I'm going to be in the office for most of the day anyway. I've got a meeting now, actually. Are you sure it's all right if I stay for dinner? I don't want to be any trouble.'

'You're not. Listen, get your ass over here for six or we'll be driving by WEI and dragging you out. Got that?'

'Yes, Duo. I'll see you then.'

Duo hung up, shaking his head. 'Eight o'clock on a Sunday and he's got a meeting. We have _got _to get that guy a life.'

'I didn't know we had plans for today.'

'Oh!' Duo took a jug of chilled orange juice out of the refrigerator and poured two glasses. 'Well, we don't actually, but Tro mentioned that he might call by this evening and it would be kind of nice to introduce them properly. It's awful that they still hardly know each other.'

'Well, they have met. They've both been to parties in this house, and they've both attended exhibitions at the gallery.'

'Oh, that doesn't count,' Duo said airily. 'There were always dozens of other people around, and they never really had a chance to talk to each other properly.'

Treize lifted an eyebrow. 'Matchmaking, love? I hardly think those two would suit. I can't imagine two less similar people.'

'Oh, yeah? Sometimes opposites attract. I mean, we got on pretty well.'

'I thought we got on rather better than that.' Treize ladled porridge into two bowls and added small jugs of cream and honey to the tray. 'There should be fresh raspberries in the 'fridge, Duo. Can you get them please? Now, since it's a glorious morning, would you consider eating outside in the hot tub? I do realise the licking may be difficult, but I'm sure we could find some other ways to amuse ourselves.'

'Can we go back upstairs afterwards?' Duo wondered, licking at the condensation on the side of his glass.

'Keep doing that, and I'll be dragging you upstairs right now.'

'You don't like me doing this?' The little wretch pressed his lips to the glass, dabbing the crystal with his tongue, and then danced a few steps out of his lover's reach.

'I like it far too much.' Treize grabbed the flying end of Duo's braid as he darted around the table. 'Let me show you.'

'Hey! My hair's not a damn leash!' Duo squeaked as he was reeled in.

'No?' Damn, it felt so good slipping through his fingers. If Duo wanted to tease, then he was more than willing to join in.

'Treize, stop!' Duo said suddenly. 'You're scaring Laragh.' The dog was cowering under the table, growling low in her throat. 'Oh, angel, we're just playing. It's OK.'

'Here, girl.' Treize held out his hand, and she approached slowly. 'I wasn't hurting him, honestly.'

'I guess she'll get used to us fooling around.' Duo sounded slightly uncertain, as he hugged the dog to him.

'We'll be more careful in future,' Treize promised. 'She'll soon learn it's only play. Now, shall we go and eat?'

'Mmm. This is lovely.' A few minutes later, Duo lazed back in the hot tub, one hand holding his bowl and the other dangling to pull Laragh's ears. 'You know, it might be nice to get married in the early morning. Just as the sun is rising.'

Treize laughed. 'You're far too grumpy in the mornings for that. We do need you to smile for the photographs.'

'I'm sure you could think of some way to bring a smile to my face.' Duo twirled his tongue around a spoonful of honey. 'And then you could sweep me upstairs and ravish the hell out of me.'

'That idea does have a certain appeal,' Treize admitted. 'But what would our guests do while you're claiming your conjugal rights?'

'Take bets on how long we're going to take?' his lover teased, drizzling honey onto his porridge and licking the spoon lasciviously. 'It could be a fun party game! Seriously, though, if we wait a couple of months, the roses will be out and we can have the ceremony in the rose garden.'

Treize made a face. 'Do we really want hordes of people wandering around?'

'Hardly hordes,' Duo scoffed. 'Treize! We agreed it was going to be small, remember?'

'Within reason, certainly. And we still haven't made any definite arrangements.'

Duo swallowed another mouthful, this time without any embellishments. 'What exactly does _within reason _mean?'

'Sweetheart, there are certain people I have to invite. My family, for instance.'

'Why d'you _have _to invite them? You don't even like most of them!'

'I know, but they are family. It's traditional. And I can't discriminate about which of my relations to ask, or I'll cause rows that will go on for generations.'

Duo muttered something that was inaudible, probably luckily. 'I thought this was supposed to be our day. How come we don't get to have things the way we want?' His eyes narrowed. 'Or is it that _I _don't get to have any say in this?'

'Of course you do. Duo, I'm sure we can work something out that will please us both.'

'Yeah, well, what would please me would be to invite people we _like_. Not all these stuffy aristocratic tenth cousins of yours who'll probably be looking down their noses at me. Next, you'll be saying you want to invite everyone who's ever bought a painting from the gallery, or who's ever sold you one.' He caught Treize's quick blush. 'Oh, no way, Treize. No fucking way.'

'I'm not suggest we invite everyone on the gallery mailing list. But I've known some of those people for years; I consider them friends.'

'So…this is all going to be like some giant PR exercise, right?' Duo jerked away from him. 'You want half of the upper crust of Sanque to be there when we get hitched. Pity you didn't choose someone who'd actually fit in with all that grandeur, isn't it?'

'Stop it. _Stop _it, Duo. When the hell are you going to get over thinking you're not good enough for me? You are far, far more than I deserve. Half of Sanque is jealous of me because I've got you and you'd know that if you could see for one second past that gigantic chip on your shoulder!'

'If I'm so great, then stop yelling at me!' Duo snapped back. '_I'm _not the one with the inferiority complex! I'm not the one who wants to impress all those snobs with some big extravaganza. Why can't we just have a simple ceremony with the people we actually like? Why do we have to make a big circus out of it?'

'Because if we don't, if we have some rushed, hole-in-the-corner ceremony, it's like we have something to be ashamed of.'

'Like what? I don't care what people think. Come on, Treize, it's not like anyone's going to think that I'm pregnant, you know!'

'Not for want of trying,' Treize murmured and saw from Duo's expression that the joke had fallen flat. 'I'm sorry. I'm terribly proud of you, sweetheart; I suppose I want to show the world just how much I love and appreciate you.'

'Why don't you show me how much you love me by listening to what _I _want for once!' It's like you want everyone in the entire universe to know and I just don't get that!'

'I don't get why you're determined to hide the fact that we're engaged,' Treize retorted, and saw a quick flush spread across his lover's cheeks.

'I am _not_ hiding it.'

'Yes, you are. You've refused to let me give you a ring. You've said you don't want any announcements in the paper. You haven't even told Quatre or Trowa, and you've asked me not to tell anyone. If you're so ashamed of being my fiancé, perhaps we shouldn't even be thinking about this.'

It hurt terribly to say, but perhaps it would be for the best. He had, after all, pressured Duo into agreeing in the first place, while his lover thought they were perfectly happy as they were.

'No!' Duo catapulted into his arms, hair flying. 'It's not that.' He lifted his eyes to Treize's, pleading. 'I - just - I know what it's going to be like when we start telling people. We'll have those stupid tabloid journalists after us for photos and interviews and we won't have a minute's privacy.

'It's not my fault that you're incredibly photogenic.' Treize ventured, tucking Duo under his arm, and trying hard not to laugh at his lover's indignant expression.

'They'll all be saying I'm a gold-digger and your toy-boy and all that shit.'

'A minute ago, you said you didn't care what people thought. And in the interests of strict accuracy, you are technically my toy-boy,'

'Oh, very funny.' He was trying to sound sour, but he'd relaxed delightfully into the curve of Treize's body.

'Sweetheart, listen.' Treize kissed the top of that tousled, chestnut head. 'If you'd rather not do this, I'll understand. We can either forget the whole thing, or else have a long engagement. Whatever you like.'

Duo huffed at him. 'I wonder sometimes if you ever listen to me. I said that I don't want all the engagement hoopla, and I don't. I never said I didn't want to marry you. I only wanted us to enjoy this for a few days. I thought we could tell Quat and Tro tonight, over dinner and then we can start telling everyone else.'

'You're quite sure this is what you want?' Treize held his breath, waiting for Duo to answer. He never lied; he would, surely, be honest about this.

'You're an awful idiot sometimes, considering you're a fairly intelligent guy. Of course I want this. I said yes, didn't I? You'd better not be trying to fob me off, or I'll sue you for breach of promise and take everything you've got.'

'Why bother?' Treize asked softly. 'You already have it all. You just have to ask. If you want this to be just a small ceremony, then that's what we shall have.'

'Well…shit.' Duo blew his bangs out of his eyes. 'Okay, here it is. I'm not comfortable in a grand ball room crammed with aristocrats. Yeah, I know, you are and want a big party, so, let's split the difference. Small wedding with just a couple of close friends—'

'Twenty. At least'

'--Or so, followed by a blow-the-top off party afterwards—'

'A reception.'

'Call it whatcha will, that's for everyone else-- all of Sanc, if that's what you want. How does that sound to you?'

'Perfect,' Treize told him, meaning it. Everything was perfect.

It stayed perfect right until the moment when Laragh got curious as to what her new owners were up to, and decided and decided to join them in the water at the most inopportune moment possible.

_*I should possibly point out here, for the benefit of non-Irish readers, that 'Laragh' is pronounced to rhyme with 'Tara'. It does not resemble a choking sound. _


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: they don't belong to me. Any of them.

Note: Many thanks to KS for proofing and liking…

**Chapter 3:**

Quatre's watch showed that it was ten past six as he swung his car into the driveway of Romefeller House; he was late. He was always late; with the best intentions in the world, something invariably came up at the last minute. Still, ten minutes wasn't too bad; probably twelve by the time he reached the house and parked his car.

This dark, tree-lined driveway had given him nightmares as a small child, when his parents had brought him to visit. Treize, several years older and relishing every bit of that superiority of age, had gleefully fed him horror stories about the ghosts and phantoms who dwelled in the impenetrable rhododendron thickets.

Romefeller had been the perfect playground for two imaginative little boys; there was a family crypt, made even more attractive by the fact that it was officially out of bounds; the crumbling remains of a twelfth century watch- tower, ideal for war games; and a real underground passage from the kitchens to the ice-house.

On wet days, the house itself had offered endless entertainment. Unlike Quatre's own home, remodelled every couple of years by the most fashionable decorators, Romefeller probably hadn't changed in centuries, except that electricity and running water had been installed. The boys had played hide and seek behind ancient tapestries, slid down the sweeping staircase, and spent hours exploring the attics.

Back then, Quatre had never understood his mother's disdain when she spoke about his friend's wonderful home, thinking it would be glorious to live in a house where the only heating was provided by huge log fires in Winter, and the indoor plumbing hadn't changed in over a century. He entirely sympathised with the Khushrenadas' reluctance to install any modern conveniences.

The only changes since Treize had inherited had happened within the past couple of years, and only for Duo's sake. The master bathroom had been updated; a huge plasma television hung behind a tapestry in the drawing room, and the kitchen now boasted a microwave, and an espresso machine.

Quatre pulled his car to a halt beside Duo's in the drive, and on cue his friend opened the door and sauntered down the steps. He was accompanied by what looked like the role model for the Hound of the Baskervilles.

'Duo! That can't be the little puppy! It's huge!'

Duo laughed. 'Say that to your next boyfriend and he'll be a happy man. I did _try _to tell you she wasn't as little as all that, but you were convinced she was a tiny little thing. She's about eight months old, the lady in the shelter thought. She's going to get even bigger.'

Quatre gasped. 'Not really. God, you'll be able to train her to pull a carriage or something. Um, are you sure she's friendly? I don't think she likes me. Maybe she can sense that I'm more of a cat person.'

'She's just really shy, aren't you, girl?' Duo stroked the massive grey head. 'She was most likely abandoned and abused so she isn't great with strangers. Trowa said we're better off not fussing over her too much, that we should let her get comfortable with people at her own pace. She'll probably go to you in a little while to sniff you.'

'The poor little thing!' Quatre sighed, instantly forgetting that he'd been slightly nervous a few moments before. 'That's so _awful_. I can't understand how people can mistreat animals.'

'Yeah, I know.' Duo flopped down to his knees beside his new pet. 'Still, she's going to be totally spoilt from now on. Only the finest antique carpets to piddle on, and lovely hand-stitched shoes to nibble when she wants a snack.'

'Duo, she didn't!' Quatre started to laugh. 'Oh, no! Poor Treize! How upset was he?'

Duo's eyes twinkled. 'Put it like this; it's lucky for both me and her that she was a birthday present. Otherwise, we'd probably be sharing a kennel at the shelter by now.'

'Somehow I doubt that,' Quatre scoffed. 'Oh, your birthday! I almost forgot. Happy birthday!' He delved into his pocket handed Duo a small, exquisitely wrapped package.

'Quat! You didn't have to get me anything.'

'Of course I did! And it's not for you, really. Well, not just you. Go on! Open it.'

'I'll open it in the kitchen,' Duo decided maddeningly. 'Come on. Treize will want to say hi; he's cooking up a storm inside.'

The kitchen smelt unbearably delicious, reminding Quatre that he'd had nothing to eat since a light lunch. Treize glanced up from chopping herbs at the kitchen table. 'Hello, Quatre. Has Duo told you yet?'

'Haven't had a chance,' Duo chipped in. 'He's being even more hyper than usual. I think someone's been feeding him sugar again.'

'No, they haven't,' Quatre defended himself robustly. 'What have you got to tell me? Duo, aren't you going to open your present?'

'In a sec. I'll just make some tea first,' Duo said cheerfully, placing his gift on the table in front of Quatre, who huffed a little, just because Duo would expect it. The truth was, that he always happy to watch the two of them together. Treize dropped a kiss on Duo's head when his lover stepped around him to fill the kettle; and Duo rested his head briefly against the taller man's shoulder while waiting for it to boil. They just flowed together, even when performing the most mundane of household tasks.

One day, when he was ready to settle down, it would be nice to have a relationship like that.

'No, you're the most laid-back, patient person I've ever met,' Duo teased, placing two cups of tea on the table, and slowly loosening the ribbons on his gift. 'Oh, wow, Quat! That's just perfect.' He slowly withdrew a scarlet leather dog-collar with matching leash.

'Is it really all right?' Quatre demanded anxiously; he'd spent hours trying to choose just the right present. 'The girl in the shop said it should be the right size for an adult dog so it might be a little bit big for her now. Even though she's a lot bigger than I thought she'd be. If you don't like it, I have the receipt and they have lots of other styles. And colours. I just picked red because I know you both like it, but I won't mind at all if you want to change it? Do you like it?'

'Like it?' Duo grinned over at him. 'I love it. It's perfect. Hell, I'd be tempted to wear the collar as a choker myself, the leather's so soft.'

'Mmm.' Treize wound both arms around the younger man and kissed the back of his neck. 'Very fetching you'd look, too. Quatre, did the shop have this model in indigo, by any chance?'

'Treize!' Duo's face was suddenly stained with crimson. 'You're embarrassing Quatre!'

'No, he isn't,' Quatre said brightly. It was perfectly true; after more than two years, he was used to them.

'Thanks a bunch,' Duo muttered, rummaging in the layers of tissue paper and pulling out a handful of small crystal charms to hang from the collar; another rose, a shamrock, a miniature paintbrush and a padlock. Lastly, he held up an engraved silver disc, shaped like a rose. 'Hey, these are all so cool! Quat, seriously, you shouldn't have spent all that money. You've had our 'phone numbers and everything engraved on it. Look, Treize. He's got 'Laragh Maxwell-Khushrenada' written on the opposite side.'

'Singularly appropriate, in the circumstances,' Trieze observed. 'Isn't it, love?'

'What circumstances?' Quatre demanded, glancing between them.

'Do you want to tell him or shall I?'

'You tell him.' Duo crouched down beside Laragh. 'I'll need to cover Laragh's ears; you know what he's like when he gets excited. He'll probably go through the sound barrier and dogs are very sensitive to that sort of noise.'

'Very true,' Treize conceded, giving his lover an adoring smile. 'Quatre, since we now have a dependent, we thought we should make our situation official, and Duo has very graciously agreed to marry me.'

'_No_!' Quatre gasped, wavering over which of them to pounce on first and tripping over Laragh. 'That's so _fabulous_. When is the wedding? When did you propose? Do you have a ring yet, Duo? Have you named a date yet? Are you having an engagement party? Can I throw it for you? Why didn't you tell me before now? Are you going to register a present list? Where are you going to have your honeymoon?'

'Slow down, Quat. OK?' Duo laughed up at him. 'You're scaring the dog. It's going to be the second Saturday in June; we're probably having an engagement party but we haven't decided the details, it only happened the day before yesterday and we wanted to tell you in person. We're not sure about the present thing; we might just ask for donations to a charity or something.'

'I'm so happy for you both. Really,' Quatre burbled. 'You're the most perfect couple I've ever met in my whole life, and I just know that you'll have the most wonderful life together.'

'Don't get emotional, Winner,' Treize ordered briskly. 'Or we'll make you be our bridesmaid. In a very frilly pink gown. Now, you tell me something. Is it true you had dinner with Samuel Alston on Friday? Honestly, I thought you had more sense. You don't deserve to be let out alone, if you're choosing that sort of company.'

'Whoa,' Duo interrupted. 'What's wrong with this Alston guy? Have I met him?'

'Certainly not. I wouldn't let him within a hundred miles of you. The man is a total boor.' Treize transferred the frown to Quatre. 'What were _you _doing with someone like that?'

Quatre shrugged, feeling ten years old again and admitting to Treize that he'd done something incredibly stupid. 'I thought it was a business dinner. We're both on the entertaining committee of the Sanque Chamber of Commerce, and he wanted to discuss this year's business awards. I didn't know he had other intentions until he put his hand in a, well, an inappropriate place.'

'What did you do; stick a fork in him?' Duo wondered.

'Not exactly.' Quatre's eyes sparkled. 'Unfortunately, we do have to work together sometimes. I, quite accidentally, spilled my coffee in his lap. It was _very _hot. Poor man.'

'Nice one.' Duo grinned at him. 'You know, we should fix you up with someone decent. If nothing else, it's hardly good PR for the owner of a hook-up agency to be single. You're not exactly a good advertisement for your own business.'

'I do not run a hook-up agency! That makes me sound like a pimp! I'm a lifestyle coach.'

Duo laughed. 'Sure you are, and it's pure coincidence that some of your clients have hooked up.'

'Yes, it is actually, and for the record, I'm perfectly happy being single. I don't need a boyfriend to complete me.'

Duo nudged him in the ribs. 'No, you just need a boyfriend so you can get laid occasionally.'

Periwinkle-blue eyes met indigo, shining with limpid innocence. 'But, Duo, I don't need to be in a relationship for that. I can just pick someone up.'

Duo promptly choked on his tea; a nice little revenge for the 'hook-up agency' comment, Quatre thought.

'I think Quatre is trying to say that he's quite capable of ordering his own affairs,' Treize murmured, giving his partner's - no, his fiancé's - braid a little tweak as he walked past. 'Can you watch the sauce for a couple of minutes, love? Make sure it doesn't boil. I need to get some wine from the cellar.'

'I didn't know you were inviting other people,' Quatre commented, eyeing the piles of plates ready to be warmed in the oven.

'Just Trowa, and we did ask Zechs, but he wasn't sure if he'd be able to make it. He was finishing up a commission today.' He gave the sauce a stir and flung a wicked grin at Quatre. 'Two nice single guys for you to choose from. How's that?'

'You are all consideration, Mr. Maxwell,' Quatre said affectedly, and then grinned. 'Please don't make me sit next to Zechs. We had dinner last week and he spent the whole time trying to get me to model for him.'

'So? He's an artist. You should be flattered.'

Quatre slid his head around the kitchen door, checking that Treize was still out of earshot. 'He wants to paint me _naked_!'

'And? He does a lot of nudes; it's not like he's never seen a guy naked before. It's no big deal, Quat.'

Quatre snorted rudely. 'Not much! He hasn't seen _me _naked. And if it's not a big deal, why don't you go and model for him?'

'Actually, I have.' Duo's voice was determinedly casual but there was a slight flush blooming on his cheekbones.

'No way! I've seen the picture he did of you last year, and you're fully dressed.'

'Oh, the one in the library. Yeah. He's done another one, that we've got upstairs, and I'm not remotely fully dressed in it.'

'Really? Goodness! Was it very embarrassing?'

'A bit, at first,' Duo admitted, dropping the worldly pose. 'It was OK though, once he got started properly. He pretty much ignored me, except to tell me to stop moving. That was the worst bit, actually, having to keep in one position. And it's not like it's a full frontal or anything. I've got my hair down and one of my knees is raised a little bit so you can't actually see that much. I'll show you sometime if you like.' He took the wooden spoon out of pot and gave it a quick lick. 'So you're not tempted by Zechs? How about Trowa?'

'I've never really met him properly, have I? And, to be honest, I'm not sure if he's my type. He always seems so serious about everything. I think I'd like someone a little less intense, someone to have fun with.'

'Yeah, maybe you do at that,' Duo acknowledged. 'You work too hard; you need someone who'll relax you. What were you doing today anyway? You don't normally work on Sundays.'

'Father's planning to hire some new research assistants. He asked me to come in for a couple of hours to help him sort through the applicants' details and come up with a shortlist to be interviewed.'

'How're you ever going to get a man if you spend all your time working?' Duo demanded. 'You don't even work for WEI anymore and you're always in and out of the office.'

'I quite like feeling that I'm still a part of it all,' Quatre explained. 'Even though I _have _left. Anyway, you know perfectly well I _do _have a man in my life.'

Duo groaned loudly. 'Not this again! Having a crush on some guy you've seen about a dozen times and never spoken to doesn't count. You don't know anything about him! He could be a serial killer or straight or anything.'

'I saw him the other day,' Quatre said dreamily. 'It was rather strange actually. I was so sure he worked somewhere near the National Gallery, because that's where he gets off the Metro, but I was going to see a new client in the New Edwards Plaza and he was coming out.'

'I take it we're talking about the mysterious Asian,' Treize commented, walking in with his arms full of wine bottles. 'I'm sure he's a sandwich delivery guy, and that's why you keep seeing him in different places.'

'That would be great; I'd get free sandwiches! I don't think he is though. He's always very nicely dressed and he carries a laptop bag.'

'Maybe he delivers very up-market, gourmet sandwiches,' Duo teased. 'Did you actually speak to him this time? You're not usually so shy about approaching people.'

Quatre made a face. 'I know! But he's always reading a book or a paper, or on his 'phone. It's so hard to start a conversation with someone when they're absorbed in something else.'

'Rather than being wholly absorbed in you?' Duo asked. 'Face it, Quat. That's probably the thing that most intrigues you about him; that he's a change from most of the guys you meet and who just fall at your feet.'

'It's nothing like that!' Quatre protested. 'People do _not _fall at my feet and you can't talk anyway!'

'Oh, he can always talk,' Treize smiled, settling his wine of the table and giving his partner a quick kiss on the mouth. 'Can't you, love? Duo, dinner should be ready in about thirty minutes; do you want to take Laragh out for a quick run first.'

'Sure. Quatre, d'you want to take a quick run to the beach? Treize, Trowa should be here in a few minutes; can you tell him where we've gone? He might want to come down and meet us?'

Trowa, in fact, arrived just as they were leaving the house.

'Hey, Tro. You guys remember each other, don't you?'

'Of course.' Quatre held out his hand politely to the tall man. 'How do you do?'

'I do OK.' The one visible green eye sparkled; he shook Quatre's hand, and then turned to take Duo's, turning it palm upwards.

'No ring yet, Max? I thought he'd have given you a rock the size of Gibraltar. A nice little symbol of ownership.'

'No ring yet.' Duo's tone was equable enough, but he was holding himself more stiffly than usual, and he snatched his hand back, thrusting it into his pocket.

Quatre glanced between them, not quite sure what the problem was. 'Well, you've only been engaged for a couple of days. You haven't told me yet, Duo; how did he propose? Was it really romantic? Or is it too personal to tell us?'

'Yeah,' Trowa drawled. 'That's a good question. How _did _he finally convince you?'

'Like Quatre said, it's personal,' Duo muttered. The hand not in his pocket had clenched on Laragh's new collar, the knuckles bone-white.

'Fine,' Trowa said abruptly. 'Oh, talking of Treize, he wanted me to ask you where the honey was. He needs it for some dessert he's making, and apparently you had it last.'

'Honey,' Duo echoed, and then blushed faintly. 'Oops. Yeah, I know where it is. Listen, I'll just run back to the house. You guys head on to the beach; I'll only be a few minutes.'

'He really does just have to click his fingers, doesn't he, Max?' Trowa asked softly. 'And you're jumping through hoops for him.'

'It's none of your damn business, Barton!' Duo snapped. 'But, just for the record, he's spent this whole afternoon cooking because _I _thought it would be fun to invite some people over. I think the least I can do is to help him with this one small thing, don't you?'

Quatre winced as Duo stalked off with the dog trailing behind him, tail drooping. He wasn't used to feeling off balance and he didn't like it. He knew that Trowa was Duo's oldest, closest friend but not that there had ever been more between them. He didn't know if Treize knew. Not sure what else to do, he headed down the steps. Trowa probably wanted to be alone for a few minutes; surprisingly, the other man fell into step beside him.

Neither of them spoke as they walked down on to the sand; once there, Trowa walked not toward the long stretch of sandy beach, but right to the cliffs.

'I'm not sure if it's safe to go that way. Not with the tide so far in.'

'Do you always do just do what's safe?' That one infuriating eyebrow lifted. 'That sounds a boring way to live. You stay there if you like, though.'

Without bothering to wait for a response, or to see if Quatre was following, he headed straight for the cliffs.

Oh, this was just ridiculous. He wasn't seven years old any more, accepting every dare that Treize flung at him. He was twenty five and a perfectly confident, assured adult. He certainly didn't care what Trowa thought about him. And his life wasn't _boring_!

If he wanted to climb a cliff, he'd damn well do it. He'd done it often enough when he was younger, but not like this, not with the waves surging quite so close beneath him. The water was coming in fast, one particularly high wave drenched his shoes and the hem of his jeans, cold enough to make him gasp and almost lose a handhold.

'Quatre! Here, hold on.'

Trowa, a few feet above him, and leaning down, held out one hand; in this mood, Quatre considered ignoring it, but that would just be stupid. Instead, he grasped those long fingers and let the other man help him.

'It's OK. The tide won't come up any further than this. '

'It does, sometimes, during big storms.'

'Not today.' Trowa was still holding his hand, in an absent sort of way, as if he'd forgotten about it. When he moved closer to the edge, Quatre went with him, instead of pulling free.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been here, although he and Treize had loved the place when they were younger, had loved the fact that they weren't supposed to be on the cliffs in the first place.

'It's amazing, isn't it?' He shouted over the sound of the waves, edging a little closer to peer straight down.

'Careful,' Trowa cautioned. 'These rocks are pretty wet from the spray.'

'It's not that slippery, really. You're so _boring._' Quatre made it into a taunt, just to see how Trowa liked being called that, and promptly almost lost his footing.

'OK, I get it,' Trowa told him, dragging him upright, words whipped away by the wind. 'I shouldn't dare you to do something. You've made your point; now, come back from there.'

Quatre gave him a jerky nod. His legs were suddenly just a little wobbly; he was very glad of the other man's arm pulling him away from the edge.

'Sit down for a minute, all right?'

Quatre managed to sit down just before his legs gave out. 'I'm sorry. That was incredibly stupid of me.'

'I shouldn't have teased you to start with.' Trowa's face was very white, very strained; he'd been scared too. 'It's OK. We can walk back to the house from here; we don't have to go back that way again.'

'Duo won't know where we are, if he comes to the beach to look for us.'

'I wouldn't worry about that too much,' Trowa said tightly. 'I'm sure Treize is keeping him otherwise occupied.' His face, gazing out to the sea, was an expressionless mask. 'Duo tells me you have a dating agency. I suppose if you'd got those two together you'd consider it a major success on your part?'

'I would actually. But it's not true about the dating agency. I run a lifestyle coaching business.'

'Yeah? So, what do you coach?'

'Virtually anything people need, and that I feel qualified to provide. Sometimes, it's just acting as a personal shopper, or providing advice on time management or de-cluttering or anything like that. I've been a guide for tourists and I've helped quite a lot of foreign executives and diplomats with advice on Sanque culture and etiquette and setting up business here. I suppose it's an advisory service, really.'

'Basically you tell people how you think they should live their lives, is that it?'

'No!' That wasn't it at all. He loved sorting out the intricacies of other people's personal and professional lives, but all he did was offer advice and possible solutions. He certainly didn't tell his clients what to do; it was totally up to them whether they acted on his recommendations or not. 'I try to offer a range of suggestions, nothing more.'

Trowa grunted, picking up a stone and skimming it over the waves with an effortless flick of his wrist. Show off. 'Any advice for me, then?'

'It doesn't work like that,' Quatre temporised. 'I need to know people rather well, before offering any opinions. But sometimes it is necessary to accept some situations as being right and inevitable, even if they're not what one particularly wants.'

Was that vague enough? He obviously wasn't happy about the engagement, but that might mean he disliked Treize, or thought they didn't know each other well enough, or lots of other things. Not necessarily that he wanted Duo for himself.

Those unreadable green eyes gave him a long stare. 'You don't think first impressions count for anything?'

'Of course they do! But many of my clients are a little nervous the first time I meet them; I prefer to wait until they're a little more relaxed, and to know a little more about their lives, before I make any judgements.'

'I would imagine the initial degree of nervousness would in itself be some indication of a person's state of mind.'

He was, Quatre found, suddenly enjoying himself. The conversation was in itself a bit like standing so close to the waves; exhilarating and just a little scary. Refreshing. He thought that Trowa had probably started this conversation just to take his mind - both of their minds - off the near-accident. 'Are you nervous right now?'

'Talking to you?' Trowa looked amused. 'I'm not sure if nervous is the appropriate word.'

_God_, he was irritating. It was like having a conversation with an eel or some slippery thing that kept sliding away.

'If you're serious about engaging my professional services, I charge by the hour. And I don't generally work on Sundays.'

_There, Mr. Barton. See what you make of that. _

'Somehow, I doubt if I could afford you. One question, given the way you look, do your clients ever mistake the nature of the professional services you provide?'

Quatre just grinned; was he seriously supposed to be embarrassed by that question? Still, there was a compliment hidden in there, somewhere. And he could handle being flirted with. 'Certainly not. It's very clear that I provide a professional service only. Ah, not _that _sort of professional service.'

Trowa actually laughed; the sound surprisingly light-hearted. 'I definitely won't be engaging you then. I'll sort out my own life.'

Yes! That was probably about as blatant as it was going to get; Quatre had never believed in wasting opportunities. And he wanted to see this man again.

'Since you're not interested in any sort of business relationship with me, would you consider having dinner some night next week?'

Trowa swished that long forelock off his face; with both eyes visible, he looked totally different. Younger. 'You can't seriously be asking me on a date?' He sounded incredulous.

Quatre Winner almost never lost his temper. It was rarely necessary. He had an adoring, indulgent family, a group of wholly supportive friends. It was easier to get his own way by charming people, usually. None of that meant he didn't possess a temper, though, and he was quite capable of losing it on occasion.

'_You're _the one who started flirting with _me_! If you don't want to go out with me, that's fine, but you don't have to insult me in the process. I'm sorry, but I was under the impression that you were attracted. My mistake, but it's no reason to be insulting. I've never met anyone so rude and I personally think your hair is utterly ridiculous!'

So there!

'You're quite the spitfire when you're mad, do you know that? I sort of like that.'

Quatre jumped up, wrenching at his hand, not caring that it probably wasn't the best idea to start a struggle on such unsafe footing. 'Let. Me. Go. _Now_.'

'Quatre, don't be an idiot.' Instead of letting him go, Trowa pulled him closer. 'I didn't mean it like that. Of course, I'm attracted to you. I never thought you'd be remotely interested in me.'

'Why wouldn't I be?'

'Maybe because of who you are?' Trowa shrugged. 'Quatre Winner. One of _the _Winners. The family that probably owns half of this city. I'm not exactly in that league.'

'But I can't help my surname!' Quatre protested, totally at a loss. 'I don't care about anything like that; I don't even work for my family. You _can't _refuse to go out with me because of something so silly.'

'Is that an order?' He stood up slowly. He was far too tall, really, for Quatre's height. He'd get a crick in his neck looking up at him, and kissing would probably be awkward. 'Why do I get the impression that you're used to having people do exactly what you tell them? I'll tell you now, I'm not like that.'

'OK.' Quatre swallowed, lost suddenly in eyes greener than the crashing waves below.

Kissing wasn't awkward at all.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: They do not belong to me. Alas.

Many thanks to KS for proofing.

**Chapter 4:**

_In which Quatre plans the perfect first date, down to the goodnight kiss, and Trowa refuses to co-operate. _

The universe had conspired to make Quatre almost fifteen minutes early for his first date with Trowa.

The shirt he wanted to wear just happened to be freshly washed and pressed; the taxi he ordered turned up exactly on time, the driver didn't have to stop at traffic lights once.

It was something of a novelty; being early. Not a particular hardship; he'd made the reservation for his favourite restaurant, and it was pleasant enough just to sit at his usual table in the bay window and have a few minutes to himself.

He hoped Trowa was going to like this place; the fact that he could get a table at such short notice usually impressed people, and he wanted to impress Trowa. Very much. To that end, he'd dressed very carefully; a new suit by his favourite French designer and the lilac silk shirt his sister Iria had given him for Christmas. Quatre wasn't vain or anything, but he thought he looked nice, studying his reflection in the gilded mirror opposite.

He rather hoped Trowa would be early; it was boring sitting here alone. He wasn't used to having to wait for people.

'Mr. Winner. How good to see you again.' His carafe of Irish spring water arrived, borne by the Maitre'd' himself; a privilege accorded to very few customers. 'I wonder if I might have a brief word.'

'Of course, Albert.' Quatre smiled, readying himself for the inevitable enquiries into the healths of his parents and sisters.

Albert hesitated. 'Forgive me for mentioning this, sir, but this restaurant does have a very strict dress code.'

'I was under the impression that I was suitably attired.'

'Of course, of course. However, I fear your dinner guest was unaware of the fact that we do expect a certain formality of dress from our customers.'

'I may possibly have neglected to inform my friend of the fact,' Quatre said tightly. 'The fault is entirely mine. I do trust that won't be a problem.' His tone implied that it had better not be.

'Not for this evening, sir, no.' Albert bowed. 'I'll have Mr. Barton shown to your table, as soon as I take his coat.'

Honestly. They were such fusspots in this place; making a big deal out of the fact that Trowa probably didn't have his tie at the correct angle or something stupid like that.

Trowa, when he arrived, wasn't wearing a tie at all. That probably was Quatre's fault; he hadn't said where they'd be going, but his dates always assumed he would take them somewhere special and dressed accordingly.

Trowa Barton hadn't bothered to dress up for him. It didn't matter. He could have worn a sack and still looked mouth-wateringly good. The black jeans were deliciously tight and the shirt exactly picked up the colour of his eyes - well, eye; there was only one on show.

He grinned at Quatre, taking the chair one of the lower-caste waiters was holding for him, and looking around curiously.

'Hi. I haven't been here before. This place is pretty pretentious, isn't it?'

'It's my favourite restaurant in Sanque!' Quatre bristled. He'd somehow managed to forget how aggravating his companion could be in the two days since he'd seen him. And the Mermaid wasn't at all pretentious. He loved it, from the painted ceiling to the carved and gilded furnishings.

'Really? You don't think that ceiling's a bit over-the-top? Come on, it's a restaurant, not the Sistine Chapel.' He glanced around. 'Half the time, restaurants use all this frou-frou décor just to distract people from noticing the food's not that special.'

'Well, the food here is excellent, actually. They have a wonderful eight-course set menu at the moment that's designed to showcase traditional rustic Sanque dishes. Venison stew and roast pheasant and smoked boar.'

'I'm a vegetarian, so that's probably not for me.'

'Oh! I'm so sorry.' Quatre's eyes dropped to his own menu, frantically scanning for vegetarian-friendly meals. 'I hope you can find something you like. Otherwise, we'll go somewhere else. I should have asked…'

'Quatre. Just chill, OK? It's not like I've got a disability; I eat fish and there's plenty of that on the menu.'

'All right. If you're sure,' Quatre said uncertainly. This wasn't going quite so well as he'd hoped. Silly of him; he should have asked Duo what sort of place Trowa would like. 'But we could go to another restaurant if you'd prefer?'

'It's fine.' He flicked his hair back and gave Quatre the benefit of both eyes. 'Look, stop stressing about it. I'm here to be with you; the food's not important. How about we order and then maybe some of these waiters will stop hovering?' He nodded to one of them. 'I'll have the prawns in banana leaf to start, and then the salmon. No sauce. Quatre?'

'Um, I'll have the same, please,' Quatre said, just a little dazedly. Normally, he loved spending ages going over the menu, deliberating over what to choose. Huh. This wasn't going at all well. Trowa hadn't even told him that he looked good, too busy criticizing the décor. 'Wouldn't you like some wine? The wine list is superb.'

'I'm driving. You go ahead and get some if you want.'

Quatre nodded, ordering a half bottle of his favourite Sauvignon Blanc. Normally, he would have thought it was rude to be the only one drinking but Trowa obviously didn't care about common courtesy.

'These look wonderful,' he enthused happily, when their starters arrived. 'And so pretty. I love how they get them this dark pink colour.'

'Not bad,' Trowa allowed. 'The chef's used just a bit too much turmeric though, don't you think? Sure, the colour's great but the taste is just a little bit too overpowering.'

'Do you cook?'

'I've worked in a few restaurants. If we weren't busy, the chefs sometimes let me watch them. You?'

'Not really, not this sort of food anyway. I can make simple things. Not sauces or dressings or anything like that.'

'That's the best. A lot of so-called gourmet food is just gussying up good ingredients with a load of spices and sauces.'

'What sort of food do you like best?'

'Spicy. Thai, Indian. Vietnamese is really good too.'

'I love Indian. There's a lovely restaurant near the National Gallery; Jaipur. Have you ever been there?'

Trowa shook his head. 'I don't eat out all that much. I like cooking; that way I can do it exactly the way I want.'

'I like cooking too, when I have time.' Quatre lifted his wine glass, which was almost empty, and a waiter moved smoothly forward to refill it. Odd; he didn't remember taking so much as one sip. 'It doesn't happen very often, though. I'm still building up my own business, so I work pretty long hours. Duo told me you work for yourself as well. You're an animal trainer, aren't you? Is that very difficult?'

'Animals are fine. Usually, the owners are the ones who need training.'

'Right.' The blond took another gulp of wine, trying not to imagine what being trained by Trowa would be like. He'd be very strict, probably, but Quatre could imagine himself doing all sorts of things just to see that rare smile, or even to get a word of approval.

Good grief; this was all rather strange. Caught up in trying to entice a smile out of his date, he hadn't even glanced around the restaurant once, to see if he knew anyone. Very strange. It was rather flattering that Trowa hadn't either; those green eyes had remained very fixedly on him the whole time.

That didn't mean no one was paying attention to him though. Table hopping at the Mermaid to greet friends was usually one of Quatre's favourite pastimes. Tonight, it was just irritating when people stopped by his table; he wanted to talk to Trowa, not gossip with people he hardly knew. Most of them could be brushed off quickly enough; one particular middle-aged lady had known him since childhood and deserved a certain amount of courtesy.

'I'm so sorry about that,' Quatre apologised. 'Mrs. Noventa's a friend of my mother's. They're both on the board of a couple of the same charities. You've probably heard of her husband; General Noventa. He's just been appointed to the Senate.'

Trowa nodded. 'Just what the country needs. Another old man with his head firmly rooted in the past. Until Sanque can move on from this isolationist policy, we're never going to develop as a modern country.'

'I happen to agree with a lot of his policies,' Quatre retorted, and they were off on an incredibly detailed argument.

By the time the waiters arrived with their second course, Quatre had completely forgotten about charming or impressing his date. Trowa was driving him insane. Elbows on the table, he had covered the cloth with a pattern of prawn shells, each one to represent some aspect of the Sanque economy.

They'd also discussed Sanque's possible entry into the European Union, a film they'd both seen the previous week, the upcoming season at the Sanque Concert Hall, and the latest government scandal.

Just enough to know they had virtually nothing in common.

Trowa was a wonderful person to argue with; he listened to Quatre's ideas and had absolutely no problem in pulling them apart when he disagreed, but he also acknowledged a number of points as being correct.

It wasn't like being on a date at all. There was simply no question of Trowa deferring to him, or letting him get away with any statements that he couldn't back up. It was like having a conversation with Duo or Treize or Zechs except that there wasn't any sort of sexual tension with his friends, and there was with Trowa, and it felt amazing.

'You know,' Trowa interrupted an impassioned statement by Quatre that ballet was one of the more superior art forms. 'I think we should probably let these guys clear up and go home.'

Quatre blinked, glancing around and realising they had the place to themselves, except for a number of waiters. 'I can't believe it's this late. Almost twelve! Wouldn't you like a coffee before we go? I'm sure they won't mind us being a little longer.'

'Sure. But they'd probably spit in the coffee before they served us.' He laughed at the look on Quatre's face. 'Hey, I've worked in kitchens, like I said. We'll find someplace else for a nightcap. Come on.'

Quatre apologised profusely and left a generous tip as they headed outside.

'They don't mind you walking out without paying in these sort of places?' Trowa asked quizzically.

'They probably would, yes. I eat there quite a lot; they have my card details.'

'That's handy,' Trowa commented. 'Now, what do you want to do next? We could just find somewhere for coffee or we could go to a club or something?'

'I hadn't actually planned to stay out all that late tonight. I have a breakfast meeting planned for the morning.'

'Staying up past your bedtime for one night won't hurt you,' Trowa informed him. 'Or do you have a curfew?'

'No.' He coloured slightly. 'Of course I don't. I suppose we could go for coffee. I'm not sure what's going to be open this time of night though, unless we take a taxi to the city centre.'

'I know a place.' He was off on those long legs, without so much as asking Quatre if that was all right. So damned infuriating; it was almost tempting to go straight home and see how Mr. Assertive liked that. Of course, he didn't.

'What kept you?' Trowa was waiting for him at the next corner, under a lamppost. All unfairly long legs in tight denim, and sea green eyes and that beautiful mouth. Oh, he'd definitely let Trowa kiss him before going home.

Just to see if it was as good as the one they'd shared by the sea.

Quatre had a tried and tested formula for kissing on the first date. If he liked the guy, but just as a friend, he would permit a peck on the cheek. If there was something more, it would be on the mouth, with perhaps a little above the waist groping. Trowa would be getting the deluxe treatment.

'Let's see if you were worth waiting for.'

He was not, very definitely not, used to being manhandled. No one, ever, had pushed him into a doorway and then crushed his mouth like that. He could practically feel the imprint of rough bricks against his back, and Trowa had one hand holding his head in place and the other roving under his jacket.

When he was finally released, he was panting. Both arms had somehow ended up twined around Trowa's neck, and he had one leg thrust between Trowa's.

'You could have asked me before doing that!' he hissed.

Trowa took his arm. 'You might have said no, and then I'd have lost the element of surprise. Besides, I didn't really get that you were objecting all that much.'

'That isn't the point! I'm used to being asked.'

'Yeah, I got that impression.' Trowa peered down at him in the near darkness. 'I'd have let you go if I didn't think you were into it. You know that, right?'

The blond nodded. He'd been every bit as enthusiastic as Trowa, once he'd realised what was going on. And the tall man hadn't been rough or aggressive or anything; just very determined.

'Let's go and get that drink, OK?' Trowa's voice was gentler than usual, and he wrapped one arm around Quatre's waist, making sure not to walk too fast.

Huh. He'd already gone too fast. Too far, too fast, and Quatre hadn't even worked out yet whether or not he truly liked him. There were rather scary levels of physical attraction, and he'd been stimulating company, but Trowa certainly wasn't bothering to fuss over him, or pay him extravagant compliments, or hang on his every word.

'Cargo club!' Quatre exclaimed happily when they'd gone another couple of blocks. 'I love this place.'

'You come here?'

'Quite a lot. They have great live music at the weekends, especially the traditional Celtic sessions. I've played a couple of times.'

Trowa, posed on the door step, turned back and gave him a long, searching look. 'How the hell have we not met properly before now?'

'I'm not sure. It's silly, isn't it? I mean, we have met but we never actually talked. Not like tonight.'

'Tonight's not over yet. Now, do you still just want coffee or would you like something stronger?'

'Coffee with a dash of Baileys would be lovely. But I'll get the drinks; I'm the one who asked you out.'

'It's after midnight.' That tiny, irresistible smile glimmered for a just a second. 'New day. New rules. You find us somewhere to sit.'

_New day, new rules_.

What was that supposed to mean?

_Tonight's not over yet._

Quatre took a long, steadying breath. He'd never slept with someone on a first date, and he wasn't going to start. He'd already gone more than far enough. He'd drink his coffee and then call for a taxi home. Alone, obviously.

'Would you like to dance?' A hand, very gently, touched his shoulder; jerked suddenly out of his thoughts, Quatre stumbled over a chair leg. Someone caught his elbow, stopping his highly undignified tumble.

'Are you all right? I didn't mean to startle you like that.'

'Yes. Fine. Thank you. I'm so sorry, I was thinking about something and…oh.' Quatre turned around slowly and came face to face with _him_.

The sandwich delivery guy, as Duo and Treize had started calling him. The man he'd been bumping into all over the place for the last month, and who had ensconced himself in all of Quatre's daydreams since he'd first seen him.

Here. Now. Asking him to dance.

He was smiling, with just a hint of concern. This was so, so unfair. Close up, he was amazing, but that wasn't it. Not just it. Those eyes were the most beautiful colour, and very soft, and he was looking at Quatre as if he'd just found something terribly precious.

Probably the same way Quatre was looking up at him.

'Since you very obviously don't want to dance with me, perhaps you'll let me buy you a drink?' Those mesmerising eyes were dancing by themselves, alight with humour.

'No! I'd love to dance with you, um, that is, I would have loved to dance with you, but I'm here with somebody. So I can't. I am truly sorry.'

'Ah.' It was a painful thing, to watch the light fade from the other man's face. 'You would be, of course. Enjoy the rest of your night. It was nice to see you again.'

'I might see you in the morning,' Quatre ventured. 'If you're on the train.'

He accorded Quatre a formal, little bow. 'I will be.'

'Great table,' Trowa observed, arriving back with a tray. 'Lucky that guy was leaving. I saw you talking. Do you know him or something?'

'No. I've just seen him on the train a few times. I don't know him at all.'

He wanted to, though.


	5. Chapter 5

Many, many thanks to everyone who has reviewed and made me very happy!

**Chapter 5:**

_In which Duo, Treize and Quatre all set out on separate early morning missions….._

'Darling. Can you wake up a little?'

'Mmmph.' Duo wriggled a little further under the bedclothes, trying to escape from that annoyingly persistent voice. Why couldn't he just be left to sleep in peace? He'd already had one rude awakening at an ungodly early hour; twice in one morning was just too much.

'Duo.' A warm hand found its way under the sheets and squeezed. 'If you don't wake up for me, I'm going to call Laragh and see if you can still sleep with her in the room.'

'Sadist.' Duo rolled onto his back and glared. They'd been dog owners for all of five days, which was more than long enough for him to realise that a playful Irish Wolfhound did _not _belong in a bedroom. Not in which people were trying to sleep, or otherwise occupy themselves at any rate. 'What d'you want, anyway?'

'Just a small favour.'

'Oh?' Duo's eyes narrowed as he propped himself on to one elbow, hair falling all over his face and wincing slightly as his back protested. 'I think you've had more than enough favours for one morning.'

'Not that sort of favour. Unfortunately.' Treize bent down and swept aside the tangle of gleaming chestnut hair. 'God, you're so beautiful in the morning, love.'

'Only in the morning?'

'Beautiful always. Always. Now, hands behind your head, seraph,' Treize instructed in that raw silk, edged tone which sometimes made Duo want to flip _him _over and see how he liked being talked to like that - he did, on occasion - and sometimes made him melt into an obedient puddle. There were certain advantages to the puddle; not that Duo was into submission or anything, but every now and then it was kind of nice just to give up control and get pounded into the mattress. Or the desk, or the wall, or the car seat.

Duo gasped as he was pressed back down against the pillow, Treize eating at him with hard, biting kisses.

'This might be a good time to discuss a small favour I need, dearest, while you're being so very malleable.'

'Favour?' He blinked confusedly. Treize could always do this to him; could drive every thought out of his head with the slightest touch. Hell, he really just needed to _look _at Duo, or use a certain tone of voice, and every little Maxwell brain cell was happily migrating south for the Winter. If the phenomenon hadn't been entirely mutual, he might possibly even have resented it. Or possibly not.

'Yeah. Whatever.' Once Treize didn't stop kissing him, he'd do anything.

Treize's eyes sparkled as he bit at Duo's lower lip, then pulled away. 'In that case, you'd better get out of bed. I need you to be at the gallery this morning for half past seven.'

'But…' Duo floundered, trying to reconcile what Treize's hands were doing with what he was saying. 'We never open that early.'

'I know, but a friend of Quatre's is interested in one of our paintings. He's only in Sanque for a few days, and has a very full schedule. That's the only time that suits him to view it.'

'What? And you knew about this when exactly? You never told me anything about it.'

'Ah. Yes.' Treize looked a little sheepish; never an expression that suited him. 'I am sorry about that. Quatre asked me on Sunday night, just before he left, while you were saying goodbye to Trowa and I did mean to tell you and then we somehow got distracted. I just remembered this morning, and I've already arranged to visit my aunt so….'

'Treize.' Duo sighed, a sound of pure exasperation. 'I've showed you a dozen times how to use your BlackBerry to set up appointments. It takes two seconds, tops, and you get auto reminders. So we don't have to go through this sort of thing.'

Treize picked up Duo's left hand and kissed it, tongue bathing his ring finger. 'I know, darling. But I already have enough people trying to organise my life. I don't need some electronic contraption dictating to me as well.'

Violet eyes narrowed. 'We're going to talk about this later tonight. OK? Who is this buddy of Quat's and what painting's he interested in?

'He's just got engaged and wants to buy a painting for his fiancée as an engagement gift. _Very _wealthy, apparently. According to Quatre, the young lady likes watercolours of a sentimental nature; children playing with flowers and kittens. You should be able to sell him that rather mawkish portrait of the young girl with the basket of puppies.'

Duo pulled a face. 'That'd be almost worth having to get up so early for. I hate that thing. I still can't imagine why you bought it.'

'The lady who sold it is an old friend of one of my aunt's, and needed the money. Besides,' Treize added a little self-consciously, 'it is by one of the best known artists of Sanque in the eighteenth century.'

'You know, you're so cute when you try to pretend you're not a total softie. I saw how much you paid for the damn thing; God knows how you ever managed to keep the gallery going without me.'

'All the more reason why you should get a good price for it then.' Treize bent and slid a hand through Duo's hair. 'I'm sure you can charm this person into paying a quite exorbitant amount. From what Quatre says, he can afford it.'

'You want me to schmooze a straight guy who's just got himself engaged? Not sure if I can do that.'

'Oh, I have every faith in you, love. ' Treize bent down and kissed him gently. 'Just don't be too charming, hmm? Remember you have a fiancé of your own at home.'

'Yeah.' Duo brushed a heavy lock of hair out of his eyes and sat up. So much for the idea of a lie in. 'What's this guy's name?'

'I have it written down in my office somewhere. I'm sure you'll be able to find it.'

Great. Just great; now he'd have to leave extra-early and rummage around on the mess on Trieze's desk. Duo smiled sweetly. 'Such a shame, really, that you're meeting dear Auntie Sophonisba for breakfast. Or you could remind me of exactly why I want to be with a technophobe who thinks he's living in the sixteenth century or something.'

'Brat. Just wait until I get home. You won't be able to sit down for a week.'

'Dream on,' Duo grumbled. 'I'm going to bed early tonight. To sleep, for once! Besides, if I know you, you'll come home so traumatised you won't be good for anything.'

'The woman terrorised me for years when I was a child!' Treize protested. 'She was always catching me when I was up to mischief, and she had no compunction about using that cane of hers for spankings.'

'Poor baby.' One hand slid out of the sheets, and caressed Treize's rear gently. 'It's an idea, though. Maybe I should start spanking you when I catch you being … naughty.' Treize's breath hitched suddenly, a little more pink in his cheeks than usual. 'I never knew that was one of your kinks. Well, not receiving anyway.'

'Talking of spankings,' Treize delved under the bed and produced a shoe in a sad state of slobbery decay. 'What, precisely, would you call this?'

Duo looked at the sad little object, trying desperately hard not to laugh. 'Um, I believe the common name is a shoe.'

'Hand-stitched Moroccan leather,' Treize grated. 'Made especially for me, two years ago, by the finest leather worker in Casablanca. A man who has, regrettably, since died. Your dog has decided to treat it as a plaything and now my favourite pair of footwear is totally ruined.'

Duo bit down on his lip. Hard. It would not be good to laugh right now. He'd already realised that Laragh was 'their' dog when she did something cute or clever, and 'his' when she misbehaved.'

'Well, technically, only one shoe is ruined. Not the pair as such. And Trowa says she'll grow out of it soon, once she settles down with us.'

'Oh, you think that I should start hopping around with one shoe on until that happens? I'll be going barefoot soon. I'm sure you'll think that's funny as well.'

Duo grinned; he just couldn't help it. 'You do have pretty cute feet. You know, it's sort of a compliment that she only chews your stuff. She must really like your smell. Or maybe she only likes the best quality leather.'

'Perhaps I should buy a pair of plastic sandals then.' Treize made an exasperated little sound, flinging the ruined shoe against the wall. 'We talked about this, my love, remember? You did offer to make reparation for any damage your dog did.'

'Oh, I'll be happy to.' Since neither of them could bring themselves to discipline Laragh, Treize had decided that Duo would be the one to be punished. Not that his idea of 'reparation' remotely resembled a punishment. Duo was seriously hoping his pet would never grow out of her destructive phase, despite what Trowa claimed. Still, he could always put things in her mouth and hope for the best. Or chew the damn things himself.

Duo leaned one finger up and traced the flying curve of his partner's eyebrows. Treize always got narky when he was stressed. 'Stop worrying. It'll be fine. Whatever happens, I love you to bits, and we're getting married. OK?' He smoothed the furrow on Treize's forehead. 'I could always come with you, you know. To protect you from little old ladies who don't even come up to your waist.'

'So chivalrous,' the older man groaned. 'Darling, I'd better go. I'll see you later.'

'Call me.' Duo blew him a kiss and propped himself up on the pillows. Shit. To be at the gallery for seven, and give himself enough time to find this guy's name, he would have to leave in fifteen minutes. Not a lot of time to make himself presentable, especially given that Treize had managed to loosen his hair while he was asleep. As usual. Time to move.

Laragh was curled in her favourite chair in the hall when he went downstairs, chin resting on the cushioned arm and eyes regarding him mournfully.

'Oh, sweetie. I'm only going to be a couple of hours, max. You'll be fine here by yourself.'

She keened softly, a sad little sound that caught Duo's heart. They'd never left her alone in the house before. But, shit, if she damaged anything in the gallery Treize would be furious. He was the most indulgent lover imaginable; which was a fancy way of saying that Duo could get away with almost anything, but there was a line. The gallery was a large part of their livelihood and if Duo's dog did anything remotely to harm that, Duo might as well book two airline tickets to Brazil or somewhere.

It wasn't as if Treize was very pro-Laragh at the moment. He hadn't wanted a dog in the first place. Not that he disliked animals, but he didn't think they had enough time to give a pet the proper attention.

Laragh whined again, very quietly.

'Shit. OK, come on. But you'd better behave yourself. Got that?'

Opening the door to Treize's office twenty minutes later, Duo shivered, just a little, as he always did when his lover wasn't there. The room hadn't changed much since that first night. There was a framed picture of Duo on the desk, and one on the wall of the two of them together. The Persian rug on which they'd first made love now graced their bedroom floor; Treize had been adamant that he didn't want anyone else walking on that. Otherwise, it was pretty much the same.

Just one detail; no Treize sitting behind the desk. Duo tried, very hard, not to think about some details of that night. Wrapped around all the shining glory of finding Treize, finding love, finding so much more joy than he'd ever thought was possible, was the thought that none of it would ever have happened if he'd been a few minutes later.

He didn't think about that, ever. Just, sometimes, if he was alone in the house at night when Treize was away, or out late, he couldn't help it.

It was stupid. Treize was fine, and safe, and the love of Duo's life. Even if he could be as aggravating as hell sometimes. With his refusal to acknowledge any aspects of the 21st century which he disliked, which was most of them; and that bloody aristocratic disdain for the mundanities of life, such as remembering appointments and people's names, and the unshakable certainty that some other less exalted person would take care of such little prosaic details for him.

'I don't know why I let him get away with all this shit, sometimes.' He muttered to Laragh who wagged her tail in agreement. Dogs were great for that; they just listened to whatever you said, however stupid.

Five minutes later, he was wondering the same thing even more strongly. Treize did have an appointment book, but interpreting all his abbreviations and hieroglyphics was impossible. Instead, Duo rang Quatre.

Unlike his friend, Quat was a morning person. He liked to watch the sun come up, and then make a nice, healthy smoothie and go and do something wholesome before work, like Tai Chi in the park.

Maybe he and Trowa weren't all that well suited after all. Trowa had Duo's opinion of sunrises; they were OK to look at just before going to bed after a late night, but that was enough.

'Duo! Good morning!' Quatre was as perky as ever. 'What in the world are you doing up so early?'

'It's not by choice. Bloody Treize was supposed to be showing a painting to some guy you know, and he forgot about it and made other plans, so I got stuck with it. He couldn't even remember the guy's name.'

'Oh dear,' the blond sympathised. 'I'm so sorry. I don't even know him. My sister Amelie knows his fiancée slightly; that's all. I think they just got engaged a week or so ago.'

'Yeah. Quite the coincidence. Quat, I just wanted to get his name.'

'Oh,' Quatre said thoughtfully. 'That's a good question. Let me think; Mel had dinner with them last week, and they were talking about buying a painting. She mentioned that her brother's friend owned an art gallery. I have the names written down at home somewhere. I'll be home in a couple of minutes. Can you wait that long?'

'Sure I can. Where are you? It's only just seven o'clock.'

'I went for a jog down by the river. It was fabulous. I saw three herons and a fox. I love this time of the day!'

Duo grimaced. That sort of cheerfulness should be prohibited by law.

'Oh, and I got the morning papers. I saw the announcement!'

'What announcement?'

'The engagement, silly!'

That. Treize had mentioned he'd drawn up something, but Duo hadn't really paid much attention. He'd told all his friends, he didn't get the point of wasting money to put it in the papers. But Treize claimed it was traditional so that was that.

'You'll have to have a party now. That's going to be such fun!' Quatre enthused. 'And you'll get lots of presents.'

Duo rolled his eyes. 'If we do end up having a party, I'll make sure we have ice-cream and balloons for you. And clowns.'

'Don' t be so mean. You know I'm terrified of clowns! Duo, is everything all right? You don't sound in a very good mood.'

Quatre was way too perceptive. 'I'm OK. I'm not crazy about all this fuss, you know, and Treize loves it. I don't get why he's into all this stuff. And I hate that my photo's going to be in all those stupid celebrity pages at the weekend. You know I wasn't exactly respectable before I met Treize. I was damn good at what I did, but the whole point was that no one knew what I looked like. It just makes my skin crawl to see my picture plastered all over the weekend supplements.'

'Pish tosh!' Quatre said it briskly. 'You've been with Treize for over two years now. No one's ever been remotely suspicious about you. You're using that as a convenient excuse because you're nervous about this whole thing.'

Way too fucking perceptive, when he dropped that dizzy blond act.

'Yeah. I guess,' Duo said tiredly. Quatre was one of the few people he'd never been able to pretend with. 'Quat, I love the guy to bits. I mean, even when I want to scream at him for being _him_, I love him. So what's wrong with me? I should be happy, right? I have the most amazing boyfriend in the universe, and he's nuts about me, and wants to spend the rest of his life with me, and I want to be with him too, but I'm still all panicky about this.'

'Nothing's wrong with you. I've had five sisters get married and every one of them almost had a meltdown during the first week of the engagement being announced. It's just how people feel.'

'Shit. What do I do about it? Suppose I was one of your clients, what would I say?'

'I would tell one of my clients to make an appointment. I would tell one of my closest friends that a little nervousness is a good sign. It means you're taking the commitment seriously enough that you realise your life, both your lives, are going to change in some ways. Just accept that it's nothing to be ashamed of, and that you love him, and that it's perfectly normal to have a few little jitters.' His voice warmed; Duo could hear the smile in it; could just imagine him bouncing along the pavement in his trendy sportswear, soaking up the joy of a new day.

'I would also tell my very good, dear friend that he is the sun, moon and stars to his partner. That there is nothing in the universe that his partner wouldn't do to make him happy. That they are the most perfect couple I have ever met, and if I didn't love them both, I would resent them horribly.'

'You're good at this shit, aren't you?'

'Very good.' Duo had to grin; no one could ever accuse Quatre of an excess of modesty. Amazing what growing up in a charmed circle of adoring family and friends did for you.

'And that's another thing; I'm supposed to get Treize an engagement present. What the hell do I get the guy who has everything?'

'You'll think of something.' Quatre's laughter bubbled over again. 'You could just wrap a ribbon around yourself.'

'That's a bit kinky for you, Winner! Anyway, been there, done that. He did like it though.'

'I'll try to think of something. But you know the only thing he really wants is you. Have you talked about engagement rings yet?'

'Sort of,' Duo said glumly. He was so stupid sometimes. He'd told Treize he didn't want to wear a ring, and Treize had accepted that. Then Trowa had made that crack about rocks and _ownership_, and he'd gone straight off and told Treize that he'd reconsidered and wanted a ring after all. Fucking Trowa. Couldn't keep his nose out of things that were no goddamned business of his. Now he'd probably end up with some gigantic diamond that had been in the Khushrenada family for centuries and he'd be stuck with it for the rest of his stupid life.

'That's sort of why he's not here this morning. He's gone to see his great aunt in Nova to get her blessing on the two of us.'

'Isn't that a little archaic?'

Duo sighed. 'You know what Treize is like with all his ancient family traditions. She's the oldest member of his family still alive, and it's customary that he tells her in person. Strictly he should have seen her before putting the announcement in the paper. Anyway, she's got a load of old family jewellery and I think he'll probably end up picking something out of that. I wanted to go with him, but he's secretly terrified she won't take it too well, and God forbid little Duo might have to hear anyone criticising him. The guy is just way too protective for his own good.'

'I think it's sweet,' his friend admitted quietly. 'I know guys aren't supposed to say this, but I'd love someone to take care of me like that. Just for a change.'

'It is kind of nice, sometimes.' It wasn't an admission Duo would have made to anyone else in the universe, not even under torture. 'You know, if you really want that sort of thing, you're going to have to show your vulnerable side a little bit.' Assuming Quatre possessed such a thing. 'You know, you're always the one who sorts out everybody else's lives.'

'I know. It's just that I'd like sometimes, _not _to have to be…the one who has to make all the decisions.'

'In your dreams,' Duo scoffed. 'You know perfectly well you'd never put up with anyone running your life for you.'

Quatre said nothing, which Duo took as agreement.

'Oh, I totally forgot. How did you get on with Trowa last night?'

'All right, I think.'

That was weird. Reticence was not one of Quatre R. Winner's outstanding characteristics. He could make losing a glove or missing a train into a Shakespearian tragedy, or spend hours effervescing over a new tea shop he'd discovered.

'Don't worry about it. He's a great guy but he's not always that easy to get on with.' Yeah, wasn't that the truth?

'No, I really liked him. A lot. It was just a bit strange. He's not like anyone I've ever met. And he hasn't called me.'

'Quat. It's only just past seven am.' Duo shook his head at Laragh, reminding himself that Quatre-World wasn't quite like the rest of the universe. 'He's probably still asleep. No everyone gets up at the crack of dawn like you.'

'I suppose. Duo, may I ask you something? Were you two ever involved?'

'Did he say anything?'

'No. I just saw the two of you together on Sunday and I wondered….I'd rather not get involved if he still has some sort of feelings for you.'

'Not an issue,' Duo said crisply. 'He doesn't. Not like you mean. You don't need to worry about that.'

'Oh. All right. Hold on a moment,' Quatre asked him. 'I'm home; I just need to get my key out.'

Duo heard the snick of a lock being opened, then a door, then the inevitable sound of Quartre falling over his cat.

Shit. Shitshitsthit. No way was Quatre going to leave it at that, and he really wasn't in the mood, right now, to have an in-depth discussion on Trowa.

Quatre said something indistinct to the cat, then was back loud and clear. 'Heavens, it's later than I thought. I'm going to have to rush. I have to get ready for a meeting. Now, let's see. I think I put it in my filofax. Here we are! Do you need a 'phone number as well?'

'No. Just the name.' That was it? No interrogation? Weird. Well, knowing Quatre, he wouldn't leave it at that, but still Duo was getting off way lighter than he'd expected. It was all very odd. Quatre would normally postpone saving the world, let alone a mere meeting, for a chance to gossip. And he pretty obviously didn't want to talk about his date with Trowa. Good sign; bad sign?

'Here we go. Heero Yuy. And the girl is Relena Peacecraft.'


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: not mine.

Thanks, as always, to the amazing KS for comments…

**Chapter 5:**

_In which Wufei meets someone significant at the train station, and behaves in an extremely uncharacteristic fashion. _

Insanity.

There was no other word for it.

Sheerest, utter insanity.

He hadn't slept much the previous night. He'd left that awful club, walked home, and spent the night thinking about _him_.

Perhaps this madness was due to lack of sleep?

Of course, he still hadn't done anything. Nothing apart from getting off the train five stops before his own, at the station where the blond customarily got on. He could still catch the next train – due in two minutes- and be only a minute or two late.

That would be the sane thing to do.

He could forget all this nonsense; forget the way the blond had looked at him. It had only been for a couple of seconds, just long enough to see that his eyes weren't blue but aquamarine, the divine, eternal colour of the oceans.

The train, laden with early morning commuters, surged into the station. He didn't bother getting up.

That was it, then.

Committed.

He deserved to be. Heero was going to kill him when he cancelled their appointment.

He flicked open his cell 'phone, steeling himself. Heero was going to think he'd gone insane. He would most probably be right.

'Yuy.'

'Heero, it's me. I'm sorry. I'm not going to be able to meet you this morning. Something's come up.'

He could practically _hear_ Heero's glare.

'What's wrong?'

'Nothing. There's just a thing I have to do. I'm sorry.'

'We had an arrangement, Chang. I can't go to this gallery by myself! How am I supposed to pick out a painting? I don't know anything about art; I've never been anywhere like that in my life.'

'Surely you know something about your own fiancée's taste?' Wufei asked slyly.

'Very funny. What if they try to sell me a forgery or something? I wouldn't be able to tell the difference.'

Wufei rolled his eyes. Typical Heero; thinking that everyone in the universe was out to con him somehow. 'The Khushrenada Gallery has a superb reputation; you don't need to worry about that. If you think Relena will like the painting, ask them to reserve it until tomorrow. I can run over and look at it during my lunch break. Will that do?'

Heero grunted. 'I suppose it will have to. Are you sure there's nothing wrong? Is there anything I can do?'

'No, really. It's fine. I just have to do something. I'll call you later. Don't worry about this, Heero. I've met Treize Khushrenada; he won't try to take advantage of you not knowing anything about art.'

'Hn.' Heero didn't sound especially reassured; he never liked going into unknown situations with insufficient information.

Well, he wasn't the only one.

Wufei glanced at his watch. If the blond guy didn't turn up by eight, he'd just catch the train to work, as usual, and forget about any of this.

It was all insane. The blond had a boyfriend, so nothing could ever happen. Wufei had behaved badly enough last night, asking him to dance, but he hadn't been able to help himself.

'_I'd love to dance with you, um, that is, I would have loved to dance with you, but I'm here with somebody.'_

That was exactly what he'd said. Wufei had spent hours puzzling over the words. Was he just being polite? He'd looked like he genuinely regretted the refusal though; like he would have liked to dance, if it had been possible.

Before Wufei had left, he'd been unable to resist the temptation to look back, just once, to see the blond's companion. Not the boyfriend, but someone different. A friend? He obviously went for tall men, so Wufei had never had a chance anyway.

If it had just been a friend, then why couldn't he have danced, or at least accepted a drink? Because the friend would have told the boyfriend and there might have been some sort of an argument?

Wufei sighed gustily. This was _insane_. He'd already let his best friend down, and he prided himself on always being there for his few close friends. All for a cute guy who was in a relationship and who had the most amazing smile.

_You're insane, Chang._

The next train was in three minutes; if he caught it, he could be at the Khushrenada Gallery while Heero was still there, and forget about all of this temporary madness.

'_I might see you in the morning. If you're on the train.'_

He'd said that, just before Wufei had left. And Wufei had said he would be. He couldn't break his word like that. Even if the blond had meant it as nothing more than a throwaway comment, a meaningless piece of politeness.

Wufei had thought it meant more than that, but then what he knew about his blond beauty could be counted on the fingers of one hand. He was reading _Alice in Wonderland_. He had a ready, radiant smile. He was kind, always offering his seat to anyone who looked tired.

He had a partner who looked like a Viking god.

'Good morning.'

He was _there_, suddenly, in front of him, as if Wufei's own imagination had brought him into being.

'Good morning.'

Wufei stood up quickly, quite powerless to stop the smile spreading across his face. He was there, close enough to see the mesmerising colour of those eyes, close enough to touch. If the train wasn't too crowded, they might be able to get seats beside each other. If it was, they could stand together.

The blond was smiling too. Wufei had seen him smile before; reading a text message on his 'phone, or at something he was reading, or at other commuters he seemed to know slightly. Sometimes, he just smiled for no apparent reason.

Wufei tortured himself sometimes, thinking that _that_ smile was for the boyfriend.

It was nice to be the one being smiled at.

'I didn't think you got on at this station.'

'I don't.' Wufei had to shout it over the announcement that the next train to the city was about to arrive. Most of the other people on the platform moved forward; Wufei took a couple of steps back; the blond followed. 'But I knew it was where you got on.'

The blond guy – Wufei was going to have to find out his name, at the very least – laughed. 'You have the advantage of me there. I knew you got on a few stops before me, since you always had a window seat, but I didn't know which one. I know you get out at the National Gallery so I thought I could get an earlier train and wait there for you.'

He'd been planning to wait for him. Oh, Gods. This was all so wrong. It was wrong to feel such a sudden warmth in his chest. The blond didn't seem like the type to cheat so he obviously didn't want anything more than friendship. Perhaps someone to talk to on the train to work? He was clearly sociable, which Wufei wasn't. He usually spent most of the journey on the 'phone, and he talked to whoever sat beside him.

And that first time Wufei had seen him in that club, he'd been at the centre of a large, laughing group. Even if he didn't already have someone, he'd want an outgoing, gregarious boyfriend. Not someone like Wufei.

Wufei cleared his throat. 'If you need to catch this train, we should probably get a move on.'

'I don't.' It was said simply, accompanied by a candid, clear blue gaze. 'Do you?'

'No. We could go and get a coffee or something. If you liked?'

'That would be lovely.'

Their steps matched exactly, Wufei thought foolishly as they walked back from the platform, falling in beside each other as if they'd known each other for years. It was a dangerous thought.

Outside the crowded station, on a clear, blue day, they stopped and looked at each other. The other man looked just a little apprehensive, which was fair enough. Perhaps he was regretting this?

'I don't know this area at all,' Wufei said finally, when one of them had to break the silence. 'Is there a café close by? Or would you rather not do this at all?'

'There's a very nice tea house around the corner. If you like tea? I don't drink coffee very much but I think they do serve it.'

'I like tea.'

Quatre nodded. 'It's this way.' Decision made and given a little bit of control, he seemed happier. He had a slight bounce to his walk; a very fetching habit of glancing at Wufei through his lashes. He was just perfect, really.

And in a relationship.

Not so perfect as all that.

Neither of them spoke until they were actually seated at a window table, tea and shortbread between them.

'Oh dear.' Quatre gave him a rather helpless little smile. 'I'm so sorry. I'm usually more articulate than this.'

'I'm not,' Wufei said honestly. It was obvious that his companion was off-balance, and not overly happy about it. He'd always seemed very confident, very in-control of himself and his world. He probably wasn't used to his life being thrown off course like this. 'Perhaps we could introduce ourselves? I'm Wufei. I don't know your name.'

'Quatre.'

'Quatre.' Wufei rolled the syllables around on his tongue; the closest he was ever going to come to kissing the man. 'Very unusual. I've been calling you the blond guy for weeks, ever since I first saw you.'

'At the train station,' Quatre supplied instantly. 'Wednesday morning, four weeks ago.'

Wufei smiled, because he couldn't help it. 'No, actually. It was before that. The previous Sunday night, in that club where I saw you yesterday.'

'Cargo? Really? Do you go there a lot? I don't remember seeing you there.'

'You didn't.' Wufei took a careful sip of tea that was still too hot. Delaying tactics, Heero would say if he were there. 'You were with a big crowd of people, you and your boyfriend. I'd gone with some people from work. I didn't stay very long.'

Just long enough to become totally obsessed.

Quatre frowned. 'I'm sorry. I don't actually have a boyfriend; are you mixing me up with somebody else?'

'You don't?' Oh gods. If that were true, perhaps he might have the ghost of a chance. 'You were dancing with him a lot; very tall, long blond hair.'

'Oh!' Quatre's face cleared. 'That was Zechs. No, he's just a friend. We've known each other for years.'

'Zechs Merquise? The artist?'

'Do you know him?'

'Not really. I've been to a couple of his exhibitions, and I admire his work. So the man you were with last night, is he just a friend too?'

Quatre bit his lip; small white teeth sinking into soft pink flesh. Looking down at the table, he flashed Wufei a quick, blue glance, bright as a hummingbird in flight.

'Not really. Last night was actually our first date.'

Wufei's brain supplied a rapid progression of every curse he knew, in Mandarin, Japanese and English. Quatre had been single ever since he'd first seen him. He could have said something.

'How did it go?'

'A little strange, actually.' Quatre made a vague movement with those beautiful hands. 'I don't know, I liked him, rather a lot, but I'm not sure if he really liked me. And he never said he'd call me or anything.'

_Yes! _

'He's an idiot then,' Wufei said firmly.

'Thank you. The thing is, it's all a little complicated. His best friend is a very close friend of mine, and I think that maybe they were something more. And I did like him; just not like I …anyway. It's not like he asked to see me again so…Sorry. I'm being terribly presumptuous. I don't even know if you..'

'I do.' Wufei said it even more firmly. He would treasure every one of those half-finished sentences. 'Very much.'

Quatre took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. 'Oh, that's a relief! I've been thinking about you for weeks, you know. Even if you did see me first. I wish you'd come over, that first night.'

'You and Zechs seemed to be…very close.' He'd been agonising over it, the images of the two blonds dancing together on a permanent loop in his brain.

'I promise, he's nothing more than a friend. But he's very tactile, especially if he's been drinking.' He shook his head, wisps of blond hair drifting over his face. 'I can't believe this is happening!'

'I'm sure you're perfectly used to men admiring you.'

'Well, yes,' Quatre said matter of factly. 'But I've been thinking about you for weeks. I didn't know if you were even gay! And I certainly didn't think you were interested. I was always trying to catch your eye on the train, whenever I saw you, and you were always totally absorbed in reading or something.'

Wufei shook his head. 'I didn't think there was any point. I was sure you were already in a relationship. No point torturing myself even more. I still kept looking out for you though. I couldn't figure out what train you normally took in the morning, and you always seemed to get off at different stops, so I couldn't even work out where your job was. What do you do, by the way?'

'I'm a lifestyle coach.'

'I've no idea what that is,' Wufei admitted.

Quatre laughed at him. 'I think I'm making it up as I go along really. Don't laugh at me,' blue eyes sparkled, inviting him to do just that, 'but it actually started out as a dating agency. You see, I studied business and psychology, and I knew I wanted to do something very people-oriented, but I wasn't sure what, and then one of my sisters suggested that I'm always trying to match-make for my friends, so maybe I should do it professionally.'

'How did that go?'

'Oh, it was a total disaster. I'd envisaged working with a really small group of clients, and offering a very personalised service, but that sort of business needs a huge client base to succeed. I did get a few clients, whom I got to know very well, and found out that most of them were unhappy with other aspects of their lives, not just being single, so I ended up giving all sorts of other advice, and now I do pretty much everything. It's great fun. The ironic thing is that I try to get all my clients together once a month for a social evening, and a couple of them have actually got together. Anyway, that's enough about me. What do _you_ do? I've been trying to work out your schedule as well.'

Wufei laughed. 'It's rather varied. I work in the National Gallery; I'm in charge of the Oriental Department, but I also lecture at the Fine Arts Academy a couple of times a week.'

'My office is just across from the Gallery. Most of the people I work with are very busy though, so I tend to visit them and of course I do rather odd hours, to fit in with their schedules.' He grinned. 'I was supposed to have a breakfast meeting this morning, and I cancelled it.'

'Thank you. I was supposed to be meeting a friend. He wasn't too impressed when I pulled out.'

'I'm very glad you did,' Quatre said quietly.

'So am I. I know it's horribly short notice, but would you possibly be free for dinner on Friday?'


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: They aren't mine and there is no financial profit involved.

Note: to everyone who has been kind enough to review this rather unorthodox story, and to KS for editing, many thanks.

**Chapter 6:**

_In which Duo tries to sell a painting to an enigmatic Japanese businessman, who may not be as immune to his charms as first appears…._

Heero Yuy.

Well, he still had twenty minutes to wait until Mr. Yuy arrived, so he decided to kill time by doing a little on-line research. The name produced a plethora of hits on Google. Duo selected a newspaper archive, and pulled up a photograph to start.

'Well, aren't you cute?' he demanded of the image on screen. To be honest, Heero Yuy was beyond cute; more in the realm of knee tremblingly hot. Those blue eyes were killer for a start.

Yum.

'Pity you're straight, Mr. Yuy. I've got a friend who'd just eat you up with a spoon. And then paint the remains. Let's see what your girlfriend looks like.'

Relena was blonde, pretty, possessed of an unfortunate obsession with the colour pink. She and Quatre would have something in common anyway. She was from an old Sanque family, so Treize probably knew her. There seemed no particular reason why the happy couple shouldn't provide a good home for the painting.

Duo pulled up Heero Yuy's picture again, scanned the text below it. IT genius. Own company. Megabucks. Plans to expand into Europe. Yadda yadda yadda. Not fair, really. Looks _and _brains.

Seven twenty.

Trowa would still be asleep. Well, screw him. He dialled Trowa's number anyway; the personal one he always answered. Do the asshole good to be woken early; a little payback for the stuff he'd said on Sunday.

As far as Tro was concerned, Duo had met Treize and immediately thrown up his life and independence and personal freedom to live as Treize's pampered little pet. He'd called him worse than that. It was a miracle they were still friends, really.

Trowa wasn't just a friend, though. He was the closest thing to family that Duo had ever had. He was the only person Duo could talk to about things that had happened years ago, who really got where he was coming from. Treize tried. He really did, but he was from a different world and you couldn't get around that.

Treize wasn't overly enamoured of Trowa either, although he hid it damn well. He'd never betrayed it by look or voice or tone or the lift of one blighting eyebrow. He was only ever charming to Trowa, sometimes even commented if Duo hadn't seen him recently.

Of course, he'd won the prize. He could afford to be magnanimous.

Duo and Trowa had watched out for each other, pretty much for ever, until Duo had walked out of the Duo+Trowa equation and into Treize's life without even a backward glance. In the middle of a fucking job, to make it all worse. He still saw Trowa all the time, but it wasn't the same.

And now Quatre was asking questions about the two of them. Fuck. He'd never understand. He was so like Treize in some ways, as in he vaguely knew that there was another world out there past his own golden existence. Because Quatre was a nice person, he donated to charity and shook his head sadly over certain news reports, but none of it was real to him. None of those shadows had ever touched his life, so he was able to keep his shiny, rose-coloured view of humanity.

Trowa and Duo knew it wasn't like that.

Tro had pulled him aside on Sunday, just before they ate, and apologised. He'd been charming, or as near to charming as he ever got, during dinner, and Duo supposed they'd sort of made up. They hadn't spoken in the four days since, which was a fairly long time for them not to be in contact.

Swallowing, he dialled the number.

'Max?' Trowa's voice was blurred with sleep, foggy with concern. 'What's the matter?'

'I'm OK.' He was, suddenly. This was how they were. 'Just wanted to talk.'

'You little shit.' From Trowa Barton, it was something of an endearment. 'It's the middle of the fucking night.'

Duo grinned. It would be kind of interesting to see what happened with him and Quatre. Talk about chalk and cheese.

'You really OK?'

'Yep. Sorry. I meant to call before now.'

'Forget it. _Move_, you moron. Not you, Max. Cleo! Get off my leg; you're cutting off my circulation.'

'Reduced to sleeping with your dog now, Barton?' Duo taunted. 'No luck with enticing a certain cute blond back to your place?'

'Yeah, _right_. Mr. Winner does not, as he coolly informed, do sex on the first date.'

Duo spluttered with laughter. He could just see Quatre saying that. 'You asked him then?'

'I don't get the guy. He was practically trying to climb down my throat after I dropped him home, and then he acted like I'd tried to rape him when I suggested coming in for a bit.'

'It's just the way he is. It's not you,' Duo said gently. 'He has all these dumb rules about how far he goes on dates. Did you like him?'

Trowa snorted. 'Half the time comes across as a superficial social butterfly who thinks he's God's bloody gift to the universe and expects everyone else to feel the same and then….'

'Yeah,' Duo agreed. 'And then….you realise there's way more to him than that. Been there. Are you going to call him?'

'Get real. He probably wouldn't want me to. There's no point anyway. He comes from a totally different world. Sure, he's having fun pretending he's an ordinary guy, with his dinky little business and all, but I'll bet he's got a trust fund that rivals the GDP of a small country. At some point, he's going to decide to go and be a good son and take over Winner Enterprises, like his daddy wants.'

'You don't know that! He's really not into any of that. I doubt if he's ever even thought about money in his entire life.'

'Yeah, because he's never had to. With that surname, he can just take it for granted, right? Sure, we had fun last night. He's great company when he drops the princess act. But, shit, I couldn't afford the sort of place we went to unless I saved for a year. Seriously, Max, I was given a menu without prices, but I'm pretty damn sure the bill would have paid off third world debt or something. I wasn't sure if they'd even let me in the door when I got there! I don't belong in that sort of world.'

'That's stupid. You can fit in anywhere if you want.'

'If I need to,' Trowa acknowledged. 'Doesn't mean I have to enjoy it. I was shit-scared walking into that place last night. He was sitting there looking like he owned the place and it was all I could do not to turn tail and run.'

'He's a good guy,' Duo said quietly. 'Really, Tro. I like him a lot.'

Silence on the other end of the 'phone. He could just imagine Trowa curled around one his pillows or his dogs and trying to sort out his feelings. 'I haven't told him anything about myself.'

'He'll think the circus stuff is cool, once you don't tell him about the clown thing, and as for the rest of it, well, he knows about me. He knows we go way back and he's not stupid. He's not the sort to hold a person's past against him.'

'What clown thing?'

'He has a phobia. Some incident at a birthday party when he was a kid. If he sees a red rubber nose, he practically starts to hyperventilate.'

Trowa muttered something that could have been a curse or a prayer. 'D'you want to come over tonight?'

'Tonight isn't great. Tomorrow?'

'I'll pick you up at the gallery.'

Well, that had gone OK. Trowa hadn't said anything about Duo needing to get permission or check with Treize before taking off for the night, and Duo hadn't pushed him on the Quatre thing. Which would have been counter-productive anyway. Tro didn't like feeling forced into things. If Duo didn't make a big deal out of it, he might just decide to call Quat.

God, he'd love to have been a fly on the wall at that particular date though.

Seven thirty, just about. He hoped this Yuy guy would be on time. It was boring at the gallery with no one else around. No one human. Laragh was a great listener, but not the world's most riveting conversationalist.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Exactly on cue, someone tapped on the door.

He was just as delectable in person, Duo decided, sliding the lock. Apart from the glare. And the awful, awful clothes that might have suited his grandfather, but did nothing for a young man in his twenties.

'Mr. Yuy?' Duo smiled winningly. 'I'm Duo Maxwell. I believe you want to look at one of our paintings.'

The glare intensified; he was obviously one of those few people who was oblivious to Duo's charm.

'I was informed that Mr. Khushrenada would be here in person, not a mere employee.'

'I'm afraid Treize has been unavoidably detained. I'm his partner.' Duo didn't bother to elaborate on the word and Yuy nodded, not looking particularly happy.

'Hn. Where is the painting?'

'Follow me, please.' OK, chit chat obviously wasn't going to be on the agenda. 'It's through here.'

It was, Duo supposed, a well-enough executed painting, if you liked girls in frills and ringlets with baskets of tumbling puppies. It wasn't his taste. He couldn't really imagine it being any guy's taste. Not even Quatre's.

He started a little spiel about when it had been painted and a couple of the finer details, and was cut short by one wave of Heero Yuy's hand. He wasn't wearing an engagement ring.

'That won't be necessary. The painting isn't for me.'

Right.

'Is your fiancée interested in Emerson's works, Mr. Yuy? '

'Miss Peacecraft feels, as I do, that a piece of art by a well known artist is a good investment.'

Ouch. What sort of guy called his girlfriend by her title? Duo couldn't imagine himself ever calling Treize _Mr. Khushrenada_. And a painting was way more than just an _investment, _even if it was soppy as hell.

'Yes, this is acceptable.'

'Don't you want to … look at it for a bit longer?' Duo asked helplessly.

'There's no point. As I said, it isn't for me and I know nothing about art in any case. I gather fraud isn't uncommon in the art world and I would prefer it to be viewed by an expert, however. I have a friend who works at the National Gallery. I'd like him to see it before I make a final decision.'

Oh, that was just lovely. The Khushrenada Gallery had an excellent reputation on three continents; and this _philistine _was as good as accusing them of selling forgeries or something. Duo took the card Yuy held out to him, nobly biting back a comment about how he'd read plenty of cases of fraud in I.T. Treize would be so proud of him.

'Chang Wufei. I know him. That's acceptable, yes,' Duo murmured and then bit his lip. Yuy gave an odd little grin instead.

_Well, fancy that. Someone actually has a sense of humour._

He looked really, really good when he smiled.

'Thank you for your assistance. Are you authorised to discuss the price? I imagine it's somewhat negotiable.'

'Like I said,' Duo said tartly, 'I'm Treize's partner. That does authorise me to make my own decisions, but no, the price of this painting is fixed.'

Take it or leave it.

Yuy gave him a curt little nod. 'Very well. Do you have a bathroom I could use?'

'It's on the left,' Duo pointed. 'Down the corridor.' Laragh, who had been lurking in a corner, trailed after him. Duo grinned; she obviously wanted to keep an eye on him, make sure he didn't steal anything. It wasn't like there was anything she could damage in the hallway and he'd shut the door to Treize's office.

Hadn't he?

Duo swallowed, thinking. He'd jumped up when the doorbell rang, with Laragh trailing after him and….

'Oh, holy fucking _shit_.' Laragh was standing by the door, all faithful innocence. There was a suspicious, spreading stain on the centuries-old Ethiopian rug in the corner; the one that had already been reserved for an African diplomat. 'Oh God, Lalla, I can't believe you did that. He's going to kill us. Seriously, I'm dead when he finds out. We're both dead. He's going to freak.'

'What's wrong?' The dark, messy head of Heero Yuy head poked around the door. 'Are you all right?'

'Oh, shit! Excuse me. I'm sorry, you weren't meant to hear that.' He indicated the disaster area on the floor. 'My dog; and note the _my _in there, has just pissed all over this near priceless, _ancient_, fucking irreplaceable rug. My boyfriend is going to get back from Nova in a couple of hours and he will _not_ be happy with me. Damn.' He looked glumly at the floor.

Stupid, _stupid_ Maxwell. Treize, who never asked him for anything, had asked him not to bring the dog to the gallery until she was properly trained, and he had.

'I see. I hadn't realised you were his partner in that sense.'

'Every sense.' Heero didn't look unduly perturbed by the revelation; that pre-occupied look seemed to be customary for him. Still, no one who had any sort of connection with Quatre, however tenuous, was likely to be homophobic.

'It's sort of an occupational hazard in the art world, for some reason. Anyway, I'm sorry. You weren't meant to hear all that. If you're ready to go, I'll show you out.'

Fifteen minutes later, he'd called Howard and arranged for the rug to be collected and cleaned.

Damn, damn, _damn_.

Treize didn't really get angry in the normal sense of the word; he got all cold and remote and icily courteous.

He'd seriously lost it with Duo on only two occasions, both during their first couple of months together. Once, after a fairly minor row, when he'd taken out Treize's horse, simply because Treize had told him he couldn't ride Epyon until he was more experienced. In Duo's world, back then, if you were told you _couldn't_ do a thing, you went straight out and did it.

The other time was when he'd driven home from Tro's house having had too much to drink and a blazing argument. Stupid, yeah, but Trowa sometimes couldn't keep his big mouth shut and he'd had to get away.

Treize had gone awe-inspiringly ballistic both times. Of course, the make-up sex had been fireworks-extravaganza-spectacular, even if Duo had had to carry a cushion around for a week afterward.

He'd still been testing the boundaries back then, still not sure what to make of the fact that he'd apparently stumbled into a fairytale. Part of him had been trying to work out what Treize's angle actually was; part of him had believed the things Trowa had said. And a part of him that he'd thought had died years ago had so desperately wanted it all to be real, while the other part, the survival mechanism, claimed it couldn't possibly be because life just wasn't like that.

Now, chances were, he'd be wearing a ring by that evening. You couldn't get more real than that.

The ring. _Proof of ownership_, Trowa had called it. He knew, really, that Treize didn't mean it like that. He'd have been horrified at the suggestion, would have said that, if anything, Duo owned him, body, heart and soul.

'Plan B.' Laragh, knowing she was in disgrace, still picked up her head at the slightly more cheerful tone. 'Here's the thing, girl. If you ever get yourself a nice boy wolfhound, and you do something he won't like, you have pick your time to tell him what's wrong. And the best time to do it is usually when you're making him very, very happy.'

There were certain times when he could tell Treize that he'd stacked the Sanque Opera House with every Old Master in the Universe and tossed in a petrol bomb, and Treize would only moan a bit louder and twist his fingers in Duo's hair and after, he was usually too tired to get mad anyway.

He wasn't planning to do that, just because it wouldn't be fair. He'd seriously screwed up; he didn't deserve to get off scot-free. Nothing wrong with making Treize just a bit more mellow first, though.

Duo switched on his phone and sent a quick text. 'Lunch? On me? Lv u. D.' He added a string of hearts, smiley faces and kisses and waited for the 'phone to ring. Treize never texted; he detested almost all forms of modern communication and only carried a mobile 'phone because Duo had given it to him. Predictably enough, Treize called immediately afterwards.

'Hey, gorgeous. Can you talk? Where are you?'

'About forty minutes from Nova. Wait one second; I'll pull over. You'll have to show me how to use that tooth gadget again.'

Tooth? Oh, Bluetooth. Duo had to laugh. It was endearing when it wasn't bloody annoying.

'Have you seen Quatre's friend already? How was he?'

'IT geek. Hardly had two words to string together. Sort of cute, though.'

'I didn't need to know that. Did he like the Emerson?'

'Hard to tell. Said it wasn't for him, so it didn't matter whether he did or not. I think he'll take it though.

'That's fine. I should be back around midday if the traffic isn't too bad. If you're still offering to buy me lunch, I'll be more than grateful.'

'Uh huh.' Duo's grin broadened. 'I never said anything about paying. Read the text again, why don't you?'

'Ah.' Treize's voice changed. 'I see. What exactly did you have in mind?'

'Lu's coming in at eleven; she can hold the fort for a couple of hours if we want to take a long lunch break. It's a nice day. We could have a little picnic. Nothing too heavy; just some cheese and fruit and a few dips and something sweet for dessert. Sound good?'

'It sounds delightful. Love, I'll see you back at the house, shall I?'

'You bet. Listen, I'd better go. There's someone at the door.'

'At this time of the morning? That's odd.'

'Probably the postman with a package. Or a courier. I'll call you back, OK? Good luck with you aunt.'

It wasn't the postman. It was two men wearing identical grey jumpsuits, one holding a clipboard.

'Mr. Maxwell? Could you just sign this work order please?' Duo gaped at them. 'You have an antique rug that requires cleaning. We're here to take care of it.'

'Uh, I'm sorry. I think you've got the wrong place.' Each jumpsuit bore the name of a professional cleaning service, embroidered just under the collar. 'I didn't order anything like this.'

The older man nodded. 'A Mr. Yuy placed the order and has paid in advance, sir. You don't need to worry,' he added. 'He was very specific in his demands. Our firm is one of the most reputable in Europe when it comes to handling delicate, antique items. We have retainers with the Vatican and a number of royal palaces.'

'I see.' Duo swallowed around a burst of hysterical laughter, not seeing at all. What the _fuck_? This was nuts. No way was he going to let a couple of total strangers take off with something. 'I'm sorry for wasting your time, but I didn't order this. We have our own firm we use for this sort of thing.'

The two men exchanged glances. 'Mr. Yuy was most insistent that the job be carried out with the utmost speed. He has already paid and…'

'Then I suggest you take it up with Mr. Yuy,' Duo said firmly. 'Sorry, guys, no offence but I don't know anything about you or your firm, and that's the end of that.'

'What the hell was all that about?' he wondered aloud, closing the door very firmly in their faces.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: don't own them. Don't own the caviar.

Note: As always, thanks to KS and to everyone who has taken time to review.

**Chapter 8:**

_In which Duo and Treize go for a picnic and some innocent caviar is horribly abused…_

Duo was waiting when Treize pulled up in front of the house, sitting on one of the front steps, a backpack at his feet.

Even after two years together, having someone to come home to was still one of the most wonderful things in the world. Especially when that someone was Duo. Watching the lovely young man jump up and move to greet him, generated a warmth that spread out from his heart.

'Everything OK?' Duo's eyes roamed over his face for a moment, before two arms slid around Trieze's neck.

'Very much so.' The taller man returned the hug. 'My dearest aunt says it's about time we made it official and she's planning to hold a dinner party for us.'

'Glurk.' Duo grimaced. 'Will we have to attend?'

'As the guests of honour, I would imagine so.' He kissed the tip of Duo's nose. 'Are you quite sure you want to marry someone with hordes of horrendous relatives?'

'Quite sure I want to marry you.'

'Good. Duo, I'm sorry I was so cranky earlier.'

His love grinned up at him. 'It's OK. Makes a change, you being the grumpy one in the morning. I thought that was officially my job. Now, come on.' He gestured to the bag lying at his feet. 'Time for lunch.'

'I was planning to change first, sweetheart. I'm not exactly dressed for a picnic.'

'We're not going far.' Duo ran his tongue slowly across his lips. 'You look really good in that suit, but I wasn't actually planning on letting you keep it on for long. Or are you not really hungry?'

He spun out of Treize's embrace and headed around the back of the house, that beautiful rope of hair swinging jauntily with each step.

'Wait, love.' With his longer legs, it didn't take long to catch up, especially as Duo wasn't going very fast anyway.

There was something wrong though. Duo's smile was as bright as always, plastered resolutely to his face, but there was something behind his eyes… From bitter experience, Treize knew that pushing him would be a mistake; a sure way to stem any possible confidences. Instead, he held his lover's hand as they made their way through the formal gardens to the woods beyond, and made appropriate responses to Duo's chatter and silencing him every so often with a kiss.

Duo would tell him when he was ready. For now there were shafts of sunlight drifting through the leaves overhead, and bluebells underfoot, and his love's hand in his. More than enough.

'I did something really dumb this morning,' Duo announced suddenly, pulling Treize to a halt.

'Hmm? I seem to recall you being incredibly loving and supportive.' A faint smile touched Treize's mouth, remembering. 'Even when I woke you at some ungodly hour.'

'After all that.' Duo gnawed at his bottom lip, a sure indication that he was stressed over something. 'You know how we said, before we got a dog, that we wouldn't bring it into the gallery until we knew it was totally trained and good with people.'

Ah.

'That was the agreement, yes,' Treize said neutrally.

'Yeah.' Duo flicked his braid over one shoulder, looking at Treize with that once-characteristic mixture of defiance and pleading. It was so long since he'd seen him look like that. 'Well, I screwed up. Treize, I'm really sorry. It was a damn stupid thing to do, but she looked so lonely and she's never been in the house alone, and I know it would only have been for a couple of hours, but I thought I'd be really careful and keep a close eye on her, and I'm not making excuses but that Japanese guy went to the bathroom and I totally forgot I'd left your office door open.'

'I see.' Treize reached out and tilted Duo's chin up to look into his eyes. 'Please tell me she didn't chew a painting.'

'Not a painting. Please don't be mad, but you know that Ethiopian rug in your office?'

Treize closed his eyes briefly, fighting for some perspective. It could have been worse. It could have been, horror of horrors, Duo saying he'd changed his mind about them. It could have been Duo saying he'd met somebody else. Not, really, that he thought that would happen; he knew how much Duo loved him, but it was hard to vanquish nightmares entirely.

Still, it was useful to think of a worst case scenario. Nothing was so bad in contrast. Not even a piece of woven fabric that had lasted for centuries; that was a living part of history. It wasn't just the cost, which was bad enough. He'd been the custodian of a precious, irreplaceable object; he'd had a duty to keep it safe.

'Is it totally destroyed?'

'No! No, it's not. She didn't actually chew the thing; just piddled on it.'

'Just?' he echoed faintly.

'Bad choice of words,' Duo said. 'I've already called that guy Howard knows who runs that cleaning business. He picked it up before I left the gallery this morning. He said the colour might fade a tiny bit but otherwise it should be OK.' He looked at Treize miserably. 'It was totally, totally my fault; I'm so sorry. If you want to yell at me or beat me or something, go ahead. I deserve it.'

'I don't really want to do either,' Treize mused, and then saw the look in Duo's eyes. 'My love, did you really think I would do that?'

Duo shook his head. 'I'd prefer you to, sometimes. You know, it kills me when you go all cold on me.'

'I know.' Treize pulled him into a firm embrace. 'Well, if your dog chews any more of my footwear, I'm going to smack you with whatever shoe she's ruined. Duo, we got a dog on the strict understanding that the gallery was going to be out of bounds for a while, at least.'

He sighed; there was karma in there somewhere. He could never resist Duo and now Duo was apparently in thrall to his new pet. Wonderful. That essentially made Treize himself vulnerable to a dog's whims.

'I should have known you wouldn't be able to resist a pair of pleading eyes. In future, if you must take her with you, can you at least ensure she's left somewhere where she can't do any damage?'

'Of course I will. I swear. I'm meeting Trowa tomorrow night. I'm going to ask him to come over and give us some training sessions and we can maybe get some sort of crate or pen or something for when we're not watching her.' He took a deep breath. 'I promise, I'll be more careful in future. I'll really try not to let her chew any more of your stuff. Is that OK?'

'You've been making amends for that so very beautifully, it's almost worth sacrificing a shoe or two.'

Duo laughed, winding both arms around Treize's neck and kissing him. 'I was sort of thinking the same thing, earlier.

'Fine. I'm glad you've made up with Trowa.'

Duo gave him a long look. 'How exactly did you know we'd fallen out?'

'I was actually here on Sunday, remember? I saw the two of you together. Is everything all right now?'

'All good. I called him from the gallery this morning.' That beautiful, eminently kissable mouth quirked into a grin. 'He wasn't too pleased to be called first thing.'

Treize shook his head. 'I'll never understand the two of you.' That was perfectly true. Still, Trowa was important to Duo; that meant he was a part of their lives. He tried to bear it with as much grace as possible, to remember just how much in Trowa's debt he would always be.

He tried not to mind that, in the middle of his worst nightmares, Trowa was the one Duo called for help. No. He wouldn't think of that. Not on a sunlit afternoon with his lover smiling at him.

'I believe you promised me lunch earlier. And entertainment.'

Duo's smile widened, pressing a soft kiss to that sensitive place on his lover's jaw, the place that made Treize's knees turn to liquid. 'Little appetiser.' He flopped down on the ground, unzipping his bag. 'Just give me a minute to get everything ready, OK?'

'You never said I'd have to wait.'

'Patience is a virtue,' Duo retorted primly, violet eyes sparkling. 'You can make polite conversation or something.'

'Fine.' Fine; two could play at that game. Treize stretched out on the blanket Duo unfolded for him. 'How did you get on with Quatre's friend?'

'I _think_ OK,' Duo said cautiously. 'He's not really Quat's friend; one of his sisters is friends with the fiancée. He's a real IT geek; hardly two words to string together. Pretty cute, though. Amazing blue eyes. Wasted on a straight guy.'

'Not something I really needed to know,' Treize remarked. 'Is he buying the Emerson?'

'Probably. He wants a second opinion though, just in case we're trying to palm him off with a forgery.'

He looked so fiercely offended that Treize had to laugh. 'Oh dear. Did he insult your professional ethics? My poor darling; I hope you weren't too rude to him.'

Duo sniffed, laying out a platter of cheese and cold meats. 'Theft and forgery are two totally different things. I was perfectly polite to the asshole. Oh, I totally forgot to tell you; remember there was someone at the door this morning? It was two guys from some cleaning service; apparently this Yuy guy had called them in to fix the rug. He overheard me ranting to Laragh about what she'd done. He'd paid them and everything. And they literally arrived five minutes after he'd left. Kind of weird, huh?'

'Perhaps he felt in some way responsible? After all, you did open the gallery especially for him,' Treize suggested neutrally, resolving to keep a close eye on Mr. Heero Yuy. Duo was far too innocent about some things.

'Maybe, You know that guy Chang from the National Gallery? Yuy's getting him to come in tomorrow to give his professional opinion.'

'Do I know someone called Chang?' Treize wondered, not terribly interested.

'The Chinese guy who runs the Oriental Department at the Nat. You've met him; he was at that gallery fundraising thing that we went to a couple of weeks ago.'

'Oh, him; the one who might have been good-looking if he'd ever smiled.'

'Hey!' Duo jabbed him in the ribs. 'You're an engaged man now, Mr. Khushrenada. You're not supposed to notice other guys.'

'You did start it,' Treize gasped, squirming away from Duo's fingers and tumbling him backwards on to the blanket. 'Talking about Yuy or whatever his name is.'

'Not fair.' Duo squealed as Treize's fingers found a particularly sensitive spot. 'He's engaged _and_ straight so it's OK to make comments. Chang's gay; so he's off limits.'

'Ah. I hadn't realised we had that particular rule. How on earth do you know that?'

'Well, I don't _really_ know,' Duo admitted. 'But Zechs thinks he's seriously hot and he's convinced he's gay.'

'Zechs is convinced that every personable male in the universe is gay. Or that he can persuade them to be. How does he know him?'

'Uh.' Those huge indigo eyes fluttered closed as Treize began to press a trail of soft kisses along his jaw. 'Remember you went to Rome last month for that auction and I went to Cargo with Quat and Zechs? Chang was there but he took off before Zechs could make a move on him. 'Course, Zechs _was_ all over Quat like a heat rash, so maybe Chang thought he didn't have a chance.'

Treize laughed, pulling off Duo's hair tie and sliding his fingers through all that glorious hair. 'One of these days, Quatre will actually decide to settle down, and realise that he and Zechs would make a wonderful couple.'

'You think?' Duo was practically purring as his hair was stroked. 'I can never really see that. I mean, they've known each other for years and nothing's ever happened. D'you think Quat would really find Zechs attractive?'

'The problem, I think, is that they _have_ known each other for so long. At some point, I'm sure they'll sort it out. Quatre isn't stupid, Zechs is extremely attractive and they have everything in common.'

'Oh, Zechsy's _extremely attractive,_ is he?' Duo teased, squirming away. 'You, Mr. Khushrenada, are going to have to start remembering you're an engaged man.'

'I do apologise for forgetting to obey a rule I hadn't known about,' Treize intoned solemnly and then caught Duo's hand. 'Sweetheart, you know I didn't mean anything.'

'It's OK. Seriously.' Duo bent and kissed their joined fingers. 'I swear, I'm not remotely jealous. Even if your best friend does look like a Viking prince, and used to be your lover, and once saved your life…I'm not even a little bit jealous.'

'Duo!' He could be hard to take in this mood sometimes. He never lied, but he was a master at half-truths and evasions and the art of misdirection.

'Sorry.' Those huge, violet eyes on his were very direct. 'Just teasing, love. You know I got over that ages ago. And I know damn well you've never looked at another man since you met me. What's got you so twitchy? Still traumatised from visiting Auntie?'

'Perhaps a little,' Treize hedged. The way he was laying, he could feel the little box digging into his hip bone. Such a tiny thing to be causing him all this worry. It wasn't important. Duo had already agreed to marry him; everything else was just symbols and trappings. 'Incidentally, since when have I been _Mr. Khushrenada _to you?'

'Oh, that.' Duo grinned at him, sitting up and unpacking a bottle of Treize's favourite Cabernet and two glasses. 'Yuy was calling his fiancée Miss Peacecraft. I thought I'd give it a try. D'you like it?'

'Not particularly.' Treize uncorked the bottle and poured for them both. 'I prefer Treize. But, really, I don't care what you call me, so long as you call me yours.'

Duo shot him a sly little smile. 'I could always ask Quat where he got Laragh's collar and have one made for you. With my name on it. I could get a really pretty blue one, to match your eyes.'

'No.'

'No?' Duo pouted, an adorable puckering of his lips. 'You always say that you'll give me anything I want.'

'Well, apparently, there are some limits. And you've just found one.' Treize informed him calmly, sliding one hand into his pocket. 'I do have something for you, though.' The box he handed Duo was covered in dark red velvet, faded with age, stamped with the Khushrenada crest in gold.

The square-cut diamond was massive, surrounded by a myriad of smaller stones that almost hid the thick gold band.

'Oh! That's… amazing. Wow.'

'I thought you had rather better taste than that,' Treize said crisply. 'Personally, I think it's hideous. Of course, if you really like it, you may have it, but I think the one already on your finger suits you better.'

'The one on my –_what_?' Duo stared up at him dazedly and then looked down at the narrow gleam of gold on his left hand. 'Treize, what is this? How the hell did you do that?'

'You should know; you're the one who taught me all those little tricks in the first place. Do you like it? I wasn't sure if we should pick out something together, but then I saw this and thought of you.'

'I love it.' Duo's eyes darted between Treize's face and the ring on his finger. 'It's perfect. And it fits perfectly. Are the stones sapphires?'

Treize shook his head. He _liked_ it. 'Tanzanite. Your eyes aren't a pure enough blue for sapphires.'

'Shit! It must have cost a …'

'Don't say it,' Treize put one finger to his love's beautiful mouth. 'Please, love. Just say you'll be mine.'

'How come you always get to be the one who says all the sippy-sappy stuff?'

'Well, you do have your moments.' Treize leaned over for a kiss, loving the taste of his favourite wine lingering on his favourite person's tongue. 'But in this instance, I've been yours since we first met. You know that. Say yes. Please.'

'Of _course_, yes. You know I've been yours as well. There's never been anyone else. I can't believe you pulled that stunt with the diamond, you asshole!'

'I'm sorry.' Treize kissed him again, deeper this time, tasting ripened fruits and summer and desire. 'I simply couldn't resist. And it was what you were expecting, wasn't it?'

'Sort of,' Duo admitted it. 'I know how much you're into your family traditions and stuff.'

'I'm much more into you,' Treize's eyes gleamed. 'We can make our own traditions and I thought you'd like something a little more modern.' He hesitated. 'I know you weren't too keen on having a ring. This one is very light so if you'd rather not wear it on your finger, you could hang it beside your cross.'

He suddenly had Duo wrapped around him, kissing him breathless.

'What was that for?'

'Because I love you more than I know the words to say it so sometimes I just have to show you.' Duo was wearing a faint, delicious flush but he kept going. 'And I love the ring and I want to wear it and, hell, I'd wear the other one if you really wanted me to.'

He slid it onto his right hand and held it up to the sun, admiring the way it caught the light. 'D'you reckon it was bigger before global warming and everything?'

Treize laughed. 'It's yours if you want it.'

'I prefer the one you picked for me. Truly. And like I said, I want you to know just how much you mean to me, and I'm not as good as saying the sappy stuff as you are, so I need to give a practical demonstration.'

'That sounds intriguing,' Treize mused. 'I do foresee a problem or two though. For a start you're wearing rather too many clothes for any demonstration to be truly effective. Perhaps I can help you with that?'

'I wish you would.' Duo sat up, tugging his t-shirt over his head. 'You know, you're kind of overdressed yourself, Mr. Khushrenada.'

'I believe I can remedy both problems, and then we can enjoy this delicious lunch and then demonstrate our mutual affection. Does that sound acceptable?'

'Uh…' His beautiful, perfect love squirmed as Treize lifted his lips slightly, sliding off his jeans. 'I don't suppose we could skip straight to dessert? Please?'

'You did say earlier that patience is a virtue,' Treize teased, nuzzling his mouth softly. 'And it's very important to eat properly. It would be a shame to ignore all this delicious food you've packed.'

'Johanna did most of it. I called home from the gallery and asked her to make us up something light and I think she went a bit overboard with all the caviar and stuff.'

'Not at all. We do have an engagement to celebrate. But since you forgot to pack any crackers we'll have to find some other way to serve it. Let's see, now.' Smiling, he scooped a small amount onto each of his lover's nipples, and bent his head for the first taste. 'Yes, that will do nicely. Would you like some?'

'Only if I get to eat it off you. You have totally corrupted me, you know. It actually seems normal to be eating Beluga caviar on a picnic.'

'And naked.' Treize's tongue flicked around Duo's left nipple. 'I adore the idea of corrupting you. Especially when it's mutual. You do realise that we're breaking all the etiquette rules of how caviar should be served?'

Mouth full, Duo muttered something that sounded like 'don't care', head falling back onto the blanket as Treize feasted on the delicacy and his lover's delicious flesh.

'Tell me, sweeet, how else have I corrupted you?' Treize made his voice into a deep growl. In this adorably – yielding mood, Duo would probably like a little dominance. He did sometimes; even if he'd probably walk through hell rather than admit it.

'_This_.' It came out as a gasp as Treize tongued the long, jagged scar on his stomach. Oh, yes, _this_ was perfection. His Duo, his lovely, loving Duo, spread before him and yearning to be touched. Begging for it, even, with each toss of that beautiful head, and those fingers in Treize's hair and those low pleas for fulfilment echoing in his ear. 'Treize, please.'

'Not yet, darling.' Treize allowed himself a wicked little grin as he picked up his wine glass and trickled a little on to Duo's skin. 'We have the whole afternoon; no need to rush. And we really should sample some more of this exquisite food.'


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own the GW characters, an art gallery, an engagement ring, an Irish Wolfhound, anything remotely connected with this story.

Note: Many thanks to everyone who has been generous enough to review this, ah, unusual story, and to Kaeru Shisho, for editing. Many, many times…..

**Chapter 9:**

_In which Duo overhears, not entirely by accident, an interesting conversation at the gallery._

'Hey!' Expecting to see Heero Yuy, a few minutes early, Duo flung open the gallery door and grinned at Quatre. 'I didn't think I'd be getting to see you today. Aren't you supposed to be doing family stuff?'

The blond nodded. 'I can't stay long; Iria's picking me up in ten minutes. But I've been dying to see the ring. Show!'

Duo extended his left hand obediently. 'Treize told you about it then? No, scratch that. I guess he's told everyone he knows. It's lucky he hates the 'net so much or he'd have posted it on YouTube by now.'

'It's beautiful.' Quatre gave him a very direct look. 'Do you like it?'

'Actually, yeah.' Duo heard the slight edge to his own voice and shook his head. 'I do.' He twisted it once around his finger. 'It's just kind of weird; I never in a million years thought I'd agree to something like this.'

'To the ring or the wedding?'

'Both. Probably.' Duo shrugged, twisting the gold band on his finger so the stones sparkled.

'Would you mind if I tried it on?'

'Here you go.' Considering Treize had put the thing on his finger less than twenty four hours ago, his hand already felt oddly bare without it. 'Well, how does that feel? You'll have your own someday.'

'Maybe.' Quatre kept it in the centre of his palm for a minute and then handed it back. 'It's exquisite, Duo. I think I'd be nervous too, in your place. How do you know, really? How is anyone supposed to _know_ that they've met the perfect person to spend their lives with?'

'I do realise this is a sucky answer,' Duo closed his fist around the cold metal, warming it, 'but I just do. I knew, the minute I saw him.' His eyes, not entirely consciously, drifted to Treize's office door. Then he caught Quatre, one of the few people in the universe who knew how they'd met, doing the same thing.

'I've never felt like that about anybody,' his friend said quietly. 'I think I'm jealous of you, a little, actually. To be that certain.'

Duo felt his cheeks warm slightly. 'Everyone wonders sometimes, Quat. I love him, but it's not like I can really compare him to anyone else.' Not really.

'I think that part of it is so romantic.'

Duo snorted. 'Maybe it would be if it was a bit less one-sided.' He was tempted for a second to ask Quatre about his own magic number, but they'd never really talked about sex. Quat was bit of a funny duck; it was hard to figure out some things about him. He could have slept his way through a whole regiment of lovers, or he could still be a virgin. Instead, he went for a handy subject-change. 'What's in the bag? Something nice that I might like?'

'Oh, I forgot. Here you go; early engagement present.' He handed over the carrier bag from Duo's favourite coffee shop. 'White hot chocolate with marshmallows and caramel syrup.'

'Cool! If there's a brownie in there as well, I'll love you for ever.'

'In that case, you'd better tell Treize the wedding is off and run away with me.'

'Ha ha.' Duo took a closer look at his friend. Quatre always looked great; a living testimony to the benefits of early rising and organic foods, but there was an extra sparkle to him today. 'What are you looking so perky about?'

'I'm always perky.' Quatre gave him a sly little smile. 'It's my thing.'

'And?' Duo pressed, breaking off a piece of brownie. 'Let me guess; you've found a new blend of tea?'

The smile widened, producing one of his dimples. 'Well, it is slightly tea-related. But better. I don't really have time to tell you everything now; are you doing anything later this afternoon?'

'Going to Howard's, and then meeting Tro.' Duo closed his eyes in ecstasy; Quat had even got them to warm up the brownie, and sprinkle on extra icing sugar. 'Quatre, come on. Just _tell_ me.'

'It's a little bit complicated.' Quatre's bright smile faded and he wandered off looking at the paintings, stopping in front of the one Heero Yuy was – hopefully – going to buy. 'This one's rather soppy, isn't it?'

'Yeah. It's the one your buddy Heero might be taking. Now, what's wrong?'

'Nothing's wrong. Really. But I have to leave in five minutes and it's going to take a while to tell you everything. How did you get on with Heero? Is he nice?'

'So so. Hang around for a few minutes and you'll get to meet him. He's dropping by at one to have another look at the painting. I guess it's his engagement present to his fiancée so he wants to make sure it's perfect.'

'Everyone's getting engaged.' Quatre made a face. 'Iria and I are planning an anniversary party for my parents next month. Can you imagine, they've been married for forty years? I don't think I've ever had a relationship for that many weeks.'

Duo lifted an eyebrow at him, wiping whipped cream off his mouth. 'Whose fault is that? You're an amazing guy; if you're still running around single, it's your own choice.'

His friend just laughed, not remotely fazed by the compliment. He never was. 'I suppose. I've just always wanted to meet the right person before getting too serious.

'Hmm.' Duo gave him a shrewd look, taking another bite out of his brownie; all gooey and squishy and chocolaty. Whoever did end up with Quatre Winner would be a seriously lucky guy. 'And I'm guessing Trowa's not the right person?'

Quatre shrugged, blue eyes firmly glued to his own cup of healthy herbal tea.

'Quat, you moron! Is that why you were acting so weird yesterday? You thought I'd be pissed off that you and Tro didn't click?'

'A little bit. I know he's your friend and I did like him, but I wasn't sure if he really liked me.'

'He did,' Duo said quickly, sipping his chocolate. Shit, for two smart people, his best friends were acting like idiots. It was obvious that they'd both really liked the other, but for some reason they were convinced it wasn't mutual. Dopes, the pair of them. Dopes in need of a match-making friend to sort them out.

'Seriously, he thought you were great, but it's up to you. I kind of thought it would be nice if you guys hooked up. Look, the thing is, he's had a pretty rough time lately and I thought a bubbly blond might be nice to cheer him up a bit.' He shrugged. 'Doesn't matter. I was going to ask you a favour; if you're not busy on Sunday night, would you mind dog-sitting? I was going to take Treize out for the evening and maybe check in somewhere and I don't want to leave Laragh alone all night.'

'Oh, I can do that.' Quatre seemed only too happy to change the subject. Dizzy blond; how the hell could he think that Tro hadn't been totally into him**? **'Where are you planning to go?'

'Just a little private post-engagement celebration in a hotel he likes. Um, Quat, can I show you something?' That slipped out; he'd meant to keep it an absolute secret until he showed Treize, but he could trust Quatre and he was bursting to tell _someone_. And it wasn't like Tro would want to know.

His friend's eyes widened as Duo handed him the little box, which he'd picked up that morning. 'You think he'll like it? It was kind of a bit one-sided with me being the only one to get a ring and stuff. He's always making these big, romantic gestures, so I thought I'd even the score a little bit. It's OK, isn't it?'

'It's perfect,' Quatre said sincerely, blue eyes sparkling just like the sapphire in his hand. 'He'll adore it.

'Cool.' Duo beamed at him. Everything going perfectly to plan. He'd take Treize off and romance the hell out of him, while Quat and Tro were cosying up at Romfeller. Now, he just had to get Tro on board. Get the pair of them in the same place for an evening and see what happened. 'Around sevenish? Joanna's going to be there in the afternoon, but she doesn't like being in the house by herself after dark. Here, can you hold this for a sec?' He handed Quatre his toolbox, and scooped up a couple of extra cables. Better get all this stuff out of sight before any real customers come in.'

'What are you doing?'

'Playing around with our security system.' He grinned. 'Don't tell Treize, but I've rigged the rooms for sound. I suggested it a while ago and he's far too honourable for anything like that.'

'Why do you need sound? So you can listen to whether people are planning to steal the paintings?'

'They'd be pretty inept thieves if they talked about carrying out a heist on the actual premises. No, I just thought it might be interesting to listen to things people are saying about the paintings, when they don't think they're being overheard.'

'Is that legal?'

Duo shrugged. 'No one's going to know about it. Nothing's illegal if you don't get caught.' He laughed at Quatre's expression. 'Hey, you're the one whose sister is a lawyer. She'll tell you.'

'I somehow doubt she'll tell me anything of the sort. Quatre rolled his eyes, strolling around to look at the other paintings. 'That's nice. The one with the poppies.'

'Take a closer look.' The painting he'd liked, at first glance, was a charming watercolour of poppies, growing riotously around a couple of weathered pieces of wood. Only if you looked really closely, could you see that the wood was a rough cross, with letters roughly carved into it.

_William Harris, 1900 – 1915._

'Oh.' Quatre said softly. 'Was he real?'

Duo nodded. 'He's the artist's great-uncle. Ran away from home to fight in the First World War, lied about his age, got killed in the trenches after a couple of months.'

'That's so sad. He was only fifteen.' Quatre traced the letters with one finger. 'I can't understand why someone would paint something so personal and then sell it to strangers, though.'

'She's got kids to put through college.' Duo said it as mildly as possible. It wasn't Quat's fault that he had no real concept of the things people had to do for money. Selling a painting, no matter how personal, was nothing. 'If you really like it, I can give you a great discount.'

'I'll think about it. Duo, I'd better go; I told Iria I'd be waiting outside. Can I meet you for lunch tomorrow?'

'Sorry, I'm going to be at Howard's all day. And Treize and I are going to the opera in the evening. Just call me, OK?'

Quatre nodded. 'OK.'

Duo shook his head as his friend rushed off. He'd been acting seriously weird for the past day or so. He was always a bit on the emotional side, but this waltzing around looking like he'd just found the Holy Grail without actually saying what was going on was just plain weird.

Heero turned up, as agreed, precisely at one, Chang Wufei in tow.

They looked pretty good together; the two of them. A damn shame Yuy was straight, or they'd have made a cute couple.

Yuy was actually smiling, looking considerably less uptight than he had on his first visit.

'Mr. Maxwell. Thank you for letting us come back.'

'No problem.' Duo grinned at the Chinese man who nodded. Treize had been quite right. Chang would have been attractive if he knew how to smile. Not that the dark, brooding expression wasn't kind of appealing in its own right. He'd look seriously good with Zechsy. Or Quatre, even. 'How's it going, Wufei?'

That stern face nodded again. 'I gather congratulations are in order.'

'Huh? Oh, right. Thank you.' Duo shook his head, leading them both into the room where the Emerson was displayed. Who'd have thought Chang would be the sort of guy to read the _Personal Announcements_ column? A surprising number of people did, apparently. 'Well, here you go. One original Emerson watercolour, painted in 1895. If you need any more information, just ask me.'

'That's fine. We just need a few moments.' Heero's tone was perfectly polite but it was clearly a dismissal.

_Huh._

Duo thought about it for approximately two seconds. The legal aspect wasn't what bothered him; he had a perfect right to listen to conversations conducted in his own gallery. But Treize would be furious; they'd installed a new security system the previous year, and he'd absolutely vetoed Duo's suggestion to wire the rooms for sound.

Still, he'd never _know_….

What the hell? It wasn't as if they'd be talking about anything personal and if they did, he'd just switch off. Duo selected the room on the CCTV monitor and flicked the new little icon in the right hand corner. He was just going to check if it worked OK. Just a few seconds…

'Eighteenth century watercolours aren't exactly my main area of expertise,' Wufei was saying, a little tetchily. 'And I can't say I like the subject matter. Still, it's competently executed and the flesh tones are rather lovely. Are you quite sure you can bear to live with the thing?'

Heero shrugged. 'I won't have to. It's for Relena. Do you think she'll like it?'

'If her taste in art is as execrable as her taste in fashion, she'll undoubtedly adore it. What's the price?' His eyes widened. 'That much? I think it's overpriced for what it is, but if you want to give it to her before going back to Japan, you don't have a lot of options. '

'I don't mind paying if it's a good investment. I just don't want to be ripped off.'

'I think you're fairly safe. I asked a few of my colleagues about Emerson and his work is usually in demand. A few of his larger pieces have sold at auction recently, in the United States, and the prices were unexpectedly high.'

'Fine.' Heero sounded as if he were ticking something off on a list. 'What's the procedure now? Can I just pay and take it with me?'

'If you like. Or they can have it delivered to Relena, to save you carrying the thing around all day. Unless you really want to give it to her in person?'

Heero grunted, glancing around. 'Don't be facetious, Wufei, please. The delivery is fine. I hadn't realised there was so much money in art.'

'Well, this is one of the more upmarket galleries in Sanque. Quite the success story, actually, considering they were almost bankrupt a couple of years ago.'

'Oh?' Heero stopped in front of the poppy painting Quatre had admired earlier. 'I like this one. What happened?'

'I'm not sure.' Wufei sounded disapproving of the fact; he obviously didn't like not knowing everything. 'The gallery's been in the Khushrenada family for over a century; it was originally some sort of hobby for one of the younger sons. I think it's only been run as an actual profit-making business since the present owner took over and it was doing fairly well. Then a couple of years ago the global art market took a downturn as a result of the recession. I hear Khushrenada had over-reached himself buying a couple of paintings that he couldn't sell; some of his creditors started pressuring him; the whole operation looked like it was going to tumble down around him.'

'So what happened?'

The Chinese man made a sour face. 'An extremely convenient burglary.'

Heero's eyebrows lifted. 'Really? I'm surprised that any insurance company paid up in the circumstances.'

'It beggars belief, doesn't it?' He muttered something Duo didn't quite catch.

'The insurance money was enough to keep the place afloat?'

'Apparently. There doesn't seem to be any shortage of money now. They had the place renovated before Christmas, and the boyfriend drives around in a ridiculously flashy sports car.'

Duo sniffed. His car was….elegantly flashy. A totally different thing.

'Duo Maxwell,' Heero noted. 'The one who let us in. I met him yesterday; he's the one who showed me the painting. He was claiming to be a full partner in the business but I imagine he's the token trophy boyfriend?'

'You'd think so, given the way he looks,' Wufei agreed, laughing.

_Shithead_, Duo thought, making a face at the screen.

'I don't know anything about his involvement here, but he officially works as a picture restorer. He's very good; he's worked on a few jobs for the National Gallery. That's how I first met him.'

_Thanks a bunch. _Duo stuck out his tongue._ I'm not just __**very good**__, FYI. I'm __**brilliant**__. _

'Have they been together long?' Heero didn't bother to turn around as he asked the question, apparently engrossed in his study of the painting.

'Don't go there, Heero. Seriously. By all accounts, they're utterly devoted to one another. Khushrenda's _very_ possessive. And not someone you want to get on the wrong side of.'

'Hn. That's ridiculous. You're the one who seems to be taken with him, not me. And you seem to know a great deal about Khushrenada.'

'Good point,' Duo decided, glaring at the miniature Chang on the monitor. 'And yes, we _are_ damn well utterly devoted to one another, so don't you start getting any ideas about moving in on him. Because he's mine.'

The Chinese man gave a rude snort. 'No more than anyone in Sanque who's ever picked up a newspaper. The man's a magnet for those ridiculous celebrity columnists.'

Surprisingly, Heero laughed; a rather nice sound. 'I was only teasing, Chang. No need to go on the defensive like that. I know you've got your Mr. Perfect.'

Wufei, quite unbelievably, flushed. 'I still can't believe it. And I'm seeing him tonight. God, Heero, do you really think this is a good idea? Maybe I should just stick to dinner and forget the rest of it.'

Heero sighed. 'Not this again. You told me you wanted to do something adventurous and different, and I spent hours this morning setting it up. You'd better not back out on the plan now, after all the trouble I went to.'

Wufei nodded, turning away to examine a watercolour of two ballet dancers. 'It's not that I don't appreciate your help. Truly. But what if he disapproves of it? I want him to like me. And I acted like an idiot yesterday. God knows what he thought of me. I could hardly string two coherent words together.'

'If that's what having tea with him does for you, I don't know how you'll manage an actual meal. I hope he won't mind having to carry the entire conversation.'

'That's not helpful, Yuy. I'm nervous enough about this already.'

Aw, that's cute, Duo thought, hoping Mr. Perfect was going to go easy on the poor guy. Chang had it seriously bad.

'Why? You like him, he obviously likes you or he wouldn't have agreed to go out with you. And you did say you wanted to impress him.'

'I know. I'm not sure if a little breaking and entering on our first date is the right way to do it though.'

Heero looked pained. 'You don't have to put it quite that crudely. After all, you work for the Department of Antiquities; you've done some consultancy work for the museum. There's no reason why you wouldn't just have a key.'

'Maybe. I suppose I _could_ put it like that. I just really want this date to be special, you know. I want him to realise that I'm not always such a tongue-tied idiot. I want him to enjoy being with me.'

Heero smiled at his friend; an oddly tender little smile. 'Of course he will. Don't worry. From what you've told me, it sounds like he's just as besotted as you are. He'll probably be thrilled just to spend some time with you, regardless of what you do.'

'I hope so!' Wufei said fervently. He was still slightly flushed; a very cute, hopeful expression on his handsome face.

Duo hoped it would all work out for him and his Mr. Perfect.

'I owe you one, after all your help with this.'

'Just don't get caught,' Heero told him gruffly. 'Enjoy yourselves. And call me.'

Duo grinned; for a minute there, they'd sounded just like him and Quat. Slightly weird, but kind of cute.

He made it back to the foyer just in time to open the door for Chang, and then it was just him and Yuy.

Huh. He'd decided, listening to the two of them talk, that he didn't like Mr. Heero Yuy very much. Too interested in the gallery; too damn interested in Duo himself. Duo had met them before; guys about to take the plunge into marriage and suburbia with 2.4 kids and the requisite Golden Lab to piss on the picket fence. Guys wondering if there was something in life other than ferrying the kids to ballet and swimming and thinking of one last little adventure before settling down.

And he was taking way, way too much interest in his gay buddy's love life; not a good sign. Straight guys, in Duo's experience, might very well have close gay friends, but they didn't usually want to get too involved in their relationships. Sounded like Mr. Yuy was starting to wonder what life might be like on the other side of that white wooden fence.

He could, speaking as a newly engaged man himself, understand it. Sort of. It wasn't as if he'd never wondered, once or twice, what it might be like to be with someone else. And then felt guilty as hell for letting the thought even have a second's house room in his brain, because it wasn't like he _wanted _to be with anyone who wasn't Trieze, not ever.

He'd just - wondered about it.

Well, whatever was going on under that shaggy head – and, seriously, you'd think someone with all that money could afford a better haircut, or even a comb - Duo didn't want to be any part of it.

'So have you made a decision about the painting, Mr. Yuy?' He made it polite; either the guy would take it or he wouldn't but either way that would be the end of it.

'I'm taking it.' He handed over a credit card. 'I'd like it delivered. I'll give you the address. Why didn't you let those men take the rug yesterday? They're the most reputable firm in Sanque; they would have cleaned it for you and no one would have needed to know.'

Well, that was direct.

'I didn't know them, and we have a different firm we use for that sort of thing. Sorry, but I wasn't about to let a couple of total strangers walk out of here with something that valuable.'

The man gave him an odd look; God only knew what was going on behind those blue eyes. What the hell was it with him and rugs anyway? It wasn't like he'd been in any way responsible, and now he was taking this god-almighty high stance on cleaning services. 'Did….. your dog get into trouble?'

'I talked our way out of it.'

'I see. Can you have the painting delivered this evening? Before eight, if possible?'

'Sure. I hope the lady likes it.'

'No doubt she will.' For someone who'd just spent a not-so-small present on his fiancée's engagement gift, he didn't sound terribly interested. 'Thank you for your assistance. Goodbye.'

Duo took the extended hand. 'You're welcome. Good luck with everything.'

'You too.' Wary cobalt-blue eyes met smiling violet. He dropped Duo's hand abruptly and that was it. 'Goodbye.'

Right. That _was_ it, then. Duo locked the door behind him, watching him get into the waiting car at the pavement. Nice ass; wasted on a straight guy. Or whatever he was.

He'd get the painting parcelled up and then call Trowa.

Miss Relena Whatsername was welcome to Yuy and his rug-cleaning fixation.


	10. Chapter 10

Note: Many thaks to Kaeru Shisho, and to everyone has been reviewing, especially Eliza.(I promise not to reply again!)

**Chapter 10:**

_In which Trowa and Duo discuss life, the universe and everything, including love._

They'd arranged to meet in the coffee shop across the road from the gallery. The sort of place Trowa hated, selling murky, lukewarm water topped with foam and a shot of some synthetic faux-alcoholic syrup masquerading as real coffee and costing obscene prices.

It was marginally better than the gallery though. At least he wouldn't have to meet Treize and have to pretend to be polite. He hadn't even bothered to pretend, the first couple of months they'd been together. What was the point? He hadn't liked the guy – still didn't, much, in all honesty. He'd been sure that Duo would come to his senses at some point.

Then Treize had taken him aside one day and asked him if he really meant for Duo to have to choose between them. They'd eventually established something of a state of armed neutrality, which was, Trowa supposed, better than open hostilities. For Duo's sake.

Duo was already there, looking like the sort of person who frequented these sorts of places. He probably did, now. He was leaning against the counter and talking to the waitress. And, being Duo, he was totally unaware of the appreciative, appraising glances most of the other patrons were shooting his way.

He looked great; no wonder half the café was drooling over him. He'd taken off the fancy clothes Treize liked him to wear in the gallery; what he had on was probably supposed to be casual.

An ocean-coloured t-shirt that had to be silk, and inky-dark fitted jeans. Before Treize, he hadn't cared about clothes, except as camouflage, or distractions, as appropriate. Now, it was all designer stuff. Treize probably chose them for him.

The jewel in his ear was one Trowa had bought him, though; an uncut amethyst. At least, he still kept the ear piercing. Treize probably felt it matched the arty image or something. Trowa had done that for him, with a needle and an ice-pack to the skin first. It was a little bit too low on his lobe, really, because they'd both been drunk at the time. Trowa had needed to be high to bring himself to pierce Duo's flesh, and Duo had wanted to keep him company.

It was weird sometimes; if he hadn't seen Duo for a couple of days, he still got a little jolt that his friend wasn't the scrawny kid he'd known for over fourteen years.

He'd filled out in the last year or so. Not that he was fat or anything; he'd never be that, but you couldn't see the bones protruding anymore, and he'd got a lot more confident. Treize had given him that, Trowa had to admit, however reluctantly.

He'd lost a bit of that edginess that came from growing up on the streets, and doing whatever you had to do to survive, balancing on a constant knife edge.

Trowa still had it; he saw it in people's eyes sometimes, recognising _danger_.

'Hey, Max.'

Trowa didn't touch him until Duo had registered his presence. Underneath the gloss of Treize's wealth, he was still Duo; Trowa knew better than just to sneak up on him.

'Hey.' Duo grinned, reaching for the bag at his feet that Trowa hadn't noticed before. Good; he'd be staying the night then. He didn't always. With his other hand, he proffered a cardboard cup. 'Double espresso. OK?'

'OK.' It would be vile; the drinks in those places always were. He took it anyway, leading them both outside, very aware that they were being watched, unable to quash a little spurt of pleasure in the fact that people probably thought they were together.

Duo whistled when he saw the truck, and the tarp-covered bundle in the back. 'What's that?'

'Surprise.' Trowa opened the door and fended off the ridiculously enthusiastic greeting from the dog inside.

'Another dog. You've been on a shopping spree.'

'The pound called me yesterday. He was due to be put down this afternoon. If you want a second dog, he's looking for a nice home.'

'He's cute.' Duo buckled his seat belt and laughed as the bull terrier barrelled on to his lap. 'What's he called? Why was he being put down?'

Trowa shrugged, pulling out just in front of some blonde woman with an SUV. He hated those things; mostly hated the people who drove them. 'Called Nero. He's four; too old for some people. And bull terriers are always hard to rehome. He's a nice dog; just needs a bit of basic obedience. You want him?'

'Treize would kill me if I brought another dog home.' Duo looped one arm around the dog's neck and hugged him. 'He hardly has a pair of shoes intact as it is.'

That made Trowa laugh. 'Dogs chew things.'

'Yeah. And piddle on antique rugs. And knock over antique Waterford crystal when they wag their tails. And eat the roast duck you've stupidly left on the table for two seconds. And then puke it up on the Persian rug they've pissed on earlier.'

Still laughing, Trowa said, 'I _told_ you what a puppy would be like, that you'd be better off with an adult dog if you didn't want to go through all that. Laragh's how old again? Six months? She'll settle down in a bit.'

'I hope.' Duo stroked Nero's ears. 'Tro, that other dog, the one you were going to give us. Jess. Did you get her a home yet?'

'Yeah. A couple of days ago, actually. Nice couple who'd just lost their own Rottie after twelve years. Jess was perfect for them.' It was difficult to keep the bitterness out of his voice; he didn't try very hard.

'I said I was sorry.' Duo sounded ever so slightly defensive. 'You know what Treize is like. Mr. Protective. He read somewhere that Rottweilers can be unpredictable, and decided he didn't want a dog like that in the house.'

'Sure.' Trowa signalled left for the turn off the main road. 'She'd been a family pet for three years and had a perfect temperament. She was fully obedience-trained and she'd even won a few prizes at local shows. They were only getting rid of her because the dad had lost his job and they couldn't afford to keep a big dog. If your boyfriend's so damn protective, maybe he should have taken some of that into account. Instead, you've got a dog from the local shelter. You know nothing about her history except that she was abused and neglected; you don't know what her triggers are, and she's big enough to do some serious damage if one of you inadvertently scares her.' He shrugged. 'I know damn well which dog I'd have chosen for you.'

Duo stared fixedly out the window, one hand resting on Nero's neck. 'Laragh's the dog _I_ chose for me. I'm sorry we let you down after all the trouble you went to find us a dog, but sometimes you have to compromise in relationships. Treize didn't want a Rottweiler; don't you think he was entitled to have some say in it?'

'Compromise, sure,' Trowa muttered. 'Max, how come it's always you who's the one who has to compromise?'

'What?' Duo's eyes were very big suddenly, staring at him. 'It isn't! It's probably the other way around, if anything.'

'Really? Come off it. You live in _his_ house, you work in _his_ gallery, you get engaged when he decides he wants to. What would happen if you said tomorrow that you wanted to move out of that fucking mausoleum?'

'Then we'd move.' Duo said it with no hesitation at all. 'Now, if I wanted to. But I like living there. I know you hate it, but I like the history of it, that his family's lived there for centuries. I like that one of us has that sort of permanence. And I feel like I belong there too.'

'I've seen that damn painting. You don't exactly look like you belong.'

Duo sighed. 'We'd been together for less than two months when Zechs did that. Maybe I didn't feel I did, not then. It was still all this fairy tale that I didn't really believe. You know? Couldn't believe that he'd want to be with me, that he wouldn't just throw me out.'

Trowa wrenched the steering wheel around, turning them on to the dirt road home. Not Duo's home, not anymore. 'He's so fucking lucky to have you. He'd better realise that.'

'He does, you know,' Duo said softly. 'I do love him.'

What more was there to say after that?

Trowa pulled up and Duo hopped out to unlock the five-barred gate, grinning, like he always did, at the hand-painted sign.

_Trespassers will be eaten by Dogs._

Not that he ever really got trespassers; too far out of town. And most cars didn't have the suspension to make it up the hill, on a track that was sometimes mud and sometimes a river, and always pitted with boulders and potholes.

It meant plenty of privacy but there were a few downsides. Duo's little sports car could never make it, which meant he hardly ever just turned up unannounced. Just in those first few months, when he and Treize had fought about something.

And he'd always gone back to Romfeller eventually.

'I saw three deer this morning. Over there,' he pointed trying to lighten things a bit.

Duo gave him a grateful smile, and said something about seeing dolphins from the beach, and they talked about nothing in particular until they got to the house, and then they were submerged under the tail-wagging tide of Trowa's dogs.

Once the dogs had calmed down a bit; it took longer, with Duo there, they unloaded the bike from the back of the truck. Nero was still hanging around, unsure of all the strange animals, and Cleo, who acted like his second shadow.

'Nice,' Duo whistled. 'Enfield Bullet, right? Where'd you find one of those in Sanque? They're Indian, right?'

'Yep. Found her in Browne's Scrap Dealers. Help me get her into the barn? She's going to need a lot of work. They're nice touring bikes though.'

After an hour, Duo was looking a lot less….polished. Some of his hair had escaped from the tight braid, he had grease on his face, and a stain on his t-shirt. Trowa sort of hoped it wouldn't wash out.

'D'you ever miss this?'

'Miss what?' Duo looked surprised at the question.

'This.' Trowa gestured to the toolbox, the bike, the shed strewn with parts. Duo's own bike stood in one corner; he'd brought it with him to Romfeller when he officially moved in with Treize, then brought it back a few months later. Treize had given him a car; he'd said he didn't need the bike anymore. It had been his most prized possession, once. They'd found it in a junkshop and spent months restoring it. He took it out, sometimes, when he stayed over.

Shaking his head, Duo took a swig of beer. 'Treize's car is always breaking down. You know what classics are like. I'm under her at least every week or so.' He grinned. 'Apparently, I'm saving him a fortune in garage bills.'

Trowa hid a grimace in his own beer, not relishing the thought of Duo being _under_ anything of Treize's. He loved working side by side with Duo, the pair of them focussed on what they were doing; getting dirty and sweaty and Duo cracking terrible jokes. It was impossible to imagine Treize doing something like that; getting his hands dirty. Although maybe he liked to watch Duo crawling underneath his car.

'Want another drink?'

'Sure.'

Trowa snagged another couple of cans out of the cool-box, catching Duo's hand when he reached out and turning it palm up.

'It's nice. The ring he picked.'

It was beyond _nice_, naturally. Khushrenada had exquisite taste. A narrow gleam of gold, studded with stones that were almost as brilliant as Duo's eyes, in sunlight.

'Yeah.' Duo took his hand back, a bit self-consciously, and tucked it into one of his pockets.

'Are you sure about this? Marrying him?'

Duo didn't say anything for a minute. He took his hand back out and looked at the ring, like he wasn't quite sure how it had got on to his finger. 'I guess.'

'Max.' Trowa set his own beer down. 'You need to be sure.'

'I'm sure I love him,' Duo said in a small voice. 'I _am_, Tro. I know I want to spend forever with him. It's just …..'

'Just what?' Trowa prompted.

'The whole '_til_ _death do us part_ promise thing. It's kind of scary.'

Trowa nodded, understating at once. It was scary. They both knew death. They'd both lived with it for years, and seen too many people die. Growing up on L2 was nothing like life in Sanque. He wondered, sometimes, just how much Treize actually knew about Duo. About both of them.

And promises, for Duo, meant forever, because he never lied.

'I wish you liked him a bit more.'

'He doesn't like me either.'

'He knows you're important to me.' Duo had one finger in his mouth; the one with the ring on it, teeth tearing at his fingernail. 'The most important thing, really.'

After Treize, he meant. Of course.

'Stop doing that.' Trowa caught his left hand at the wrist, and jerked it out of his mouth. He couldn't remember the last time Duo had done that; when they were kids, he'd torn his nails to shreds on a regular basis. Now, Quatre Winner took him to get manicures.

'Oh.' Duo looked down at his own hand in surprise. Trowa let him go. 'Sorry. I don't want to lose you. That's all.'

'You won't,' Trowa said it gruffly.

'Good.'

Their eyes locked; Trowa reached out and brushed one long strand of hair away from Duo's dirty cheek. 'I promised, didn't I? That I'd always take care of you?'

He'd been eleven then, and Duo four years younger; just a child. He'd been lucky; seven years old and pretty sheltered for L2. There'd been a gang of kids who'd looked after him at first, and then a year at the orphanage he hardly ever talked about; the one that had burnt down.

He'd never broken that promise. He'd kept Duo safe, and done some things that even Duo didn't know about, and hopefully never would. And then Duo, his Duo, had walked straight into Treize fucking Khushrenada's arms, and he'd lost him.

'Can we get dinner now?'

Trowa nodded; there was no point really. They'd said it all before; he'd yelled a lot of it, along with every obscenity he knew, which was a lot, and Duo had just stood there and said, _I love him_.

'Come on.' They had the pizza Trowa had picked up in town earlier; no place was ever going to give him home delivery. It was stone cold and congealing, the way Duo liked it. Probably a nice change from caviar and lobster or whatever Treize fed him.

After, Duo rummaged through his DVD collection and picked out something that involved lots of explosions and a through-the-roof body count and a dumb plot.

Like always, they started out on opposite ends of the couch. Then Duo tucked his legs under him, and shifted a bit, and then leaned back in Trowa's direction, with his legs hooked over the edge, and then wriggled a bit to get comfortable, and ended up with his head resting on Trowa's thigh.

Like always.

There were things he just couldn't imagine Duo doing with Treize; like lying on the couch to watch a crap movie and catcalling at the bad stunts, and wolf-whistling the hero when he took his shirt off.

There were still things Duo needed him for.

Duo liked being touched, never having had any sort of bad experiences, that way. It was one of the things Trowa was proudest of; that he'd kept his friend from that. Kept him safe and whole so he'd been able to move into Treize's bed without a single qualm.

And Treize had apparently got that particular part of the relationship down pat. They weren't all that demonstrative in public. Trowa was fair enough to recognise that this was quite possibly for Duo's benefit. The way they'd grown up, it wasn't the best idea to be overt about showing affection. He'd seen them holding hands, though and kissing, and a couple of times, when he'd visited, it had been pretty damn obvious what they'd been doing.

Even after the final credits had rolled, Duo didn't move. Trowa turned the sound down and just stroked his friend's hair, liking the way Duo arched into his hand, like a cat. He'd let all the dogs stay inside, for once; recognising it as a treat, they were all on their best behaviour, lying still and quiet, just jumping at odd sounds from the fire.

Then Duo yawned, breaking the spell.

'Sorry, Tro. I was up early this morning. D'you mind if I head to bed?'

'You go on.' He still didn't move, though. Neither of them did.

In the end, Trowa got up, stirring the last few embers to life. He'd had to move, before he did something stupid. His body remembered things, sometimes, that his mind had tried to forget.

Duo just lay back, snagging a cushion to stuff under his head. 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing.' Trowa sat down on the hearthrug. Cleo, lying in front of the fire, inched over to him, laying her head heavily on his leg. She was, always, way too sensitive to his moods. Like Duo, actually. 'Tired, too, I guess. Had a long day.'

'Still not sleeping properly?'

Trowa shot him a sharp look, and Duo just shrugged.

'The other day, when I called you at seven, you sounded like you'd only just crawled into bed. I know you like staying up late, but that's ridiculous.'

'I'm fine, Duo.'

Duo, not Max. Where had that come from?

Of course, he picked up on it. Far too bloody quick, he was. 'I can't remember the last time you called me that. It must be a bit weird, now that Kurt's moved out. You still miss him?'

Trowa's turn to shrug, this time. 'You know me. I get over stuff.'

'You were together for nearly three months,' Duo said quietly.

'Screwing for three months. He only actually lived here for a few weeks.'

And that had been a fucking mistake; asking Kurt to move in. Except Kurt's roommate had got married and moved his new wife in to the apartment, and she'd wanted Kurt out, and it had seemed like a good idea, one night when they'd both been drinking, to try living together.

He'd hated it; living in the middle of nowhere with a shitload of animals. At the start, he'd claimed to like the strong, silent, enigmatic type. That had got old fairly soon, once they were together all the time.

He'd wanted to turn Duo's room into a darkroom for his photography, complained about all the signs of Duo's presence in the house, tried to get Trowa to _open up_ about his feelings, and even suggested a couples therapist.

There'd been a few spectacular rows before he'd moved out. The sex had always been great, even at the end. He missed that, even if he didn't miss the other man's less appealing characteristics.

'You're so damn romantic,' Duo grumbled, sitting up.

Trowa grinned. 'Yeah, that's me.' He put the poker down carefully, and moved to sit on the floor between Duo's legs. 'It was never serious, Max. You know that. We should've ended it long before we did.'

Duo's hands rested for a minute on his shoulders and then the fingers flexed, kneading his muscles. 'You're really tense, Tro.'

'Told you I was tired, didn't I?' Duo's touch felt indescribably wonderful. 'You never liked him, anyway.'

'Well, no.' Duo admitted. 'You've got such a talent for picking losers. I never got what you saw in him.'

'Just how coarse do you want me to be? It was a one night stand that went on for too long, that was all.'

Duo snorted. 'Like I said, you're such a romantic. If you've got a migraine, why don't you take something?'

'How d'you know I have?'

One finger touched between his brows, very gently. 'You get this little frown, just here. I don't get why you won't just take the pills.'

'Because if you take them too often, they don't work so well. And I don't like taking that chemical shit unless it's really bad.'

'What about all that caffeine shit you take? One of these days, you'll turn into a coffee bean.'

Trowa laughed, past the ache in his skull. 'I need caffeine to function. Stop trying to mother me.'

Duo punched his arm. 'I'd sooner mother a crocodile. But someone has to. Are you going to call Quat?'

'That came out of nowhere, didn't it? Can Treize keep up with your thought processes?'

'It was a logical question. Quat's into this herbal stuff; he could probably get you some alternative remedies. And we were discussing your dating history. Wouldn't you like a nice little blond ray of sunshine to light up your life?'

'I'd like for you to stay out of things that aren't your business.'

'It is my business,' Duo retorted. 'He likes you.'

'Yeah. Sure.' Duo's hands were digging deeper now; probing sore muscles. It hurt. 'I'm sure Quatre Winner can't do any better than someone like me.'

'Oh, fuck off. Anyone'd be lucky to get someone like you. You should call him.'

'I thought you wanted to go to bed.'

God, Quatre. No way. Whatever maggot Duo had got into his brain, Quatre Winner had made it very damn clear that he wasn't interested. He'd probably only invited Trowa out in the first place because Duo had nagged him into it, or because he fancied something different to the rich guys who probably fawned all over him.

He was nothing but a snotty little tease. He'd been all over Trowa when Tro had dropped him home to his fancy apartment building, and then acted like an affronted virgin when Trowa suggested taking the action inside.

Prick.

Duo sighed. 'Fine. I'll see you in the morning.'

'Call me when you wake up, OK? We could take the bikes out for an hour or so. If you're not in a hurry to get back.'

'That'd be great.' Duo smiled at him, accepting the peace offering. 'Thanks, Tro. You know.'

'Hey. Max.'

Duo, on his way to the door, swung back and Trowa pointed at his left hand.

'Whatever you do, I'm here. You know that. Always.'


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Regrettably, they are not mine.

Note: Many thanks to KS for editing and to everyone who has been kind enough to review.

Warning: This is possibly not a chapter which will appeal to 3x4 fans. Ahem. You have been officially warned.

**Chapter ****10:**

_In which Quatre gets swept off his feet, and taken for a ride…._

Quatre Winner had always tried to be a good person.

He was kind and loyal and genuinely interested in helping people. He liked to think he helped to make his little part of the world a little better.

He tried hard not to hurt people, or make anyone unhappy.

He still hadn't done anything wrong.

Trowa hadn't made any definite arrangements to see him again, or even implied that he'd be interested. That would have made things different. It would have meant that there was some sort of a relationship, or at least the prospect of one, and that in turn would have demanded a certain level of behaviour from him.

They'd danced a couple of times in the club, and had a brisk argument about who had composed one of the songs. And then Trowa had driven him home and made it very obvious that he'd expected to be invited in to finish the night off.

He'd probably only been after sex all along.

Well, in fairness, Quatre had behaved quite shamelessly. It had been fun though.

And then he'd met Wufei the next day and that had been that.

'I'm not doing anything wrong,' he informed his cat.

Samira, who was Siamese and superior and utterly uninterested in her pet human's life, crossed her eyes and deliberately turned her back on him.

'Honestly. It's not like I'm cheating on him or anything. And Wufei's so lovely and he seems really interested. I'd be stupid not to go out with him. I would,' he insisted, and she gave an irritable little twitch of her tail.

'Thank you for the sympathy,' Quatre said tartly. This was stupid. He didn't owe Trowa Barton anything; for all he knew, the man had already found somebody else and forgotten all about him.

Trowa wasn't remotely suitable, and it would all get hideously complicated because he was Duo's friend, even if Duo was hell-bent on shoving them into each others' arms.

And he didn't, definitely didn't, want to get involved in whatever was between those two.

So Wufei was a far, far better option. Full stop.

He _was_, Quatre told himself firmly, pulling on his jacket and heading for the door.

He'd be almost early for once. Wufei seemed like the sort of person who would be punctual, not like Trowa who'd turned up late and then hadn't stopped criticizing the restaurant or the food. So discourteous. Wufei wouldn't be anything like that.

Except he wasn't actually there when Quatre walked outside, smiling at the doorman who held the door for him. Ugh, how embarrassing; what was he supposed to do – just stand outside by himself until Wufei deigned to show up?

Where was he? He hadn't actually told Quatre where they were going; just to be outside his building at seven, to wear something warm and not to be late. He was, of course, but only five minutes which was practically early for him. And there was nobody there: just some guy on a motorbike.

'Quatre?' The motorbike guy twisted around, taking off his helmet.

Right, the somewhat shy, scholarly man he'd drunk tea with the previous morning had apparently morphed into some sort of Hell's Angel.

'Wufei! I didn't recognize you. Wow.' Quatre ran one hand along the gleaming paintwork. 'You never said you had a motorbike.'

'Surprise.' A smile gleamed out of those glorious dark eyes. 'Here you go.' He took another helmet from the handlebars and handed it to Quatre. 'Put this on and we'll head off.'

'Oh.' Quatre fiddled with the thing's straps. 'Um, I've never actually ridden a motorbike before.' Duo had had one once, when he'd first met Treize, and Treize had hated the thing. 'I'm not really sure if I…'

'You'll be fine,' Wufei said reassuringly. 'I'll take it really slowly at the start. You'll hardly know we're moving at all.'

'Right.' Quatre plonked the helmet on his head and Wufei leaned over to help him adjust the straps, caressing his cheek sweetly as he did so. He was looking very good; a dark red shirt just showing under his black leather jacket.

'Ready? Good. Hang on!'

Hang on to what? Quatre flung both arms around Wufei's waist. He'd lied to him! The quiet, cultured man who'd invited him out was as just as bad a speed merchant as Duo. After he'd realized that they weren't in immediate danger of death, he started to enjoy it.

'You said you'd go slowly at first!' he yelled.

'This _is_ slowly, Quatre. Just wait 'til we hit the main road.'

'Don't you dare!'

'Hey, calm down.' They slowed, almost to a standstill and one gloved hand left the handlebars and touched Quatre's, very gently. 'It's OK. I promise, I won't let anything happen to you.' He pulled to a complete stop. 'I'm sorry if I scared you. Would you prefer it if we took a taxi instead?'

'I wasn't scared. It was just unexpected. Can you just go a little bit more slowly next time?'

'Walking pace,' Wufei promised as they pulled out.

'Faster than that!'

'You're sure?'

'I'm sure.' It was all right, actually, once he'd found his balance and got both arms around Wufei's waist. That part was very nice.

'OK back there?'

'Yes!' Quatre shouted back. 'This is so much fun! You can go a little bit faster if you like. Where are we going?'

'You'll see.'

Where they went was the National Museum.

'Here you go. You did say you wanted to see that exhibition of Greek Sculpture.'

Quatre blinked as they pulled up in front of the large building. 'Well, yes, but it doesn't open 'til next Friday and anyway the museum will be closed now, won't it?'

'I'd imagine so.' Wufei smiled at him. 'Are you game for a little breaking and entering? I have a friend who happens to be a genius computer hacker; he's given me the codes to get in after hours, and he's rigged the security cameras and sensors so no one will know we're there.'

'_What_? You want to break into the museum? Absolutely not! I don't do that sort of thing. What if we're caught?'

Oh, God. He was obviously under some sort of curse. Duo had never said it straight out but Trowa presumably shared his rather shady past. And now this outwardly respectable man wanted him to be some sort of accessory to a crime. At least Trowa hadn't tried to involve him in anything like that.

'Calm down, Quatre. I'm joking! You know I work for the Gallery; well, I also do some consultancy work for the museum's Oriental exhibitions so I have a key.'

'Oh.' Well, that was a little different. 'I'm sorry! I didn't mean to suggest you were a criminal or anything.'

'No, I'm sorry,' Wufei said quietly. 'I have a stupid sense of humour. Anyway, do you want to come inside? The exhibition's only open for a week; it's going to be horrendously crowded and you won't really get to see everything properly. I thought you might like to have your own private viewing first.'

'I'd love to.' Quatre hopped off the bike and took off his helmet, smoothing his hair with one hand. 'It's a lovely idea. The most perfect date I can imagine!'

'Good.' Wufei reached out and took his hand, just a little tentatively. It was endearing actually, that he was rather shy. Nothing like bloody Trowa Barton, dragging him into doorways and groping him without even asking first. Wufei would never do something like that.

Even if Trowa had been an exceptionally gifted kisser, it had still been presumptuous and forward and downright _rude_.

He had the most amazing tongue though…

Anyway.

Wufei keyed in the alarm code, and led Quatre inside.

'Don't they have security guards at night? I'm sure there are during the day.'

'Cutbacks,' Wufei explained. 'It's all outsourced to some private security firm, and they rely on CCTV and patrols every so often.'

'I see.' Quatre pulled his hand free and dashed a few steps forward, dabbling his fingers in the fountain in the lobby. 'I've always wanted to do that, and the curators don't allow you to touch things. I can't believe we have this place all to ourselves for the night. What shall we do first?'

Wufei glanced at his watch. 'Actually, we don't have that much time. I've got us dinner reservations for half past eight.'

'Oh. OK.' That was a little bit of a disappointment, but Wufei had obviously gone to some trouble to arrange the perfect evening so he smiled brightly.

'Have you been to Greece?' he asked.

'Athens, and a few of the islands. You?'

Quatre shook his head. 'I'd love to, though. Friends of mine were in Athens last year. They took the most beautiful photographs.'

'It's a wonderful city. You should go.'

'One day.' They walked down a long, mosaic lined corridor, and found the exhibition. Sky blue walls and ceiling contrasted with white marbles sculptures.

An hour wasn't nearly long enough, of course. Not with a very knowledgeable, personable guide to answer all his questions, and occasionally to lay a hand on his arm, or take his elbow to guide him.

Quatre's head was still spinning when they walked back outside, Wufei setting the codes carefully, and got back on the bike.

'Do you think you could show me how to ride this?'

'Of course. Any time.'

The ride back to town was fun. A couple of times he tapped Wufei on the shoulder to go faster; the rest of the time he rather enjoyed snuggling against him, or at least trying to. It wasn't easy to snuggle a man wearing a bulky leather jacket and a helmet.

It was all rather perfect otherwise, and a motorbike was a pretty good modern equivalent for a white charger, complete with a very gallant knight.

Perfect.

It got even more so when they pulled up outside a tall, ochre-coloured building opposite the park.

'Au Parc,' Quatre exclaimed. 'I _love_ this place. Especially the tables in their own balconies.'

Wufei grinned at him. 'I did tell you I'd made reservations, I'm sorry we couldn't spend too much time at the museum but they prefer people to be on time.'

'Oh, it's fine.' Once ensconced in their own little balcony, complete with candles and fairy lights and a delicate arrangement of flowers on the table, Quatre sat back and sighed happily. Wufei looked wonderful; he'd let his hair down when he'd taken off his helmet, and Quatre was longing to touch that shining swathe of ebony. It was longer than when he had pulled back, sweeping his shoulder. 'This was a wonderful choice. Good guess.'

Wufei smiled at him. 'It wasn't a guess exactly. I happened to overhear you mention it on the 'phone one day, when we were on the train. I wasn't eavesdropping or anything; it's just hard not to hear what people are talking about.'

'Honestly? Fancy you remembering!'

'I remember everything about you. From the first time I saw you.'

Quatre tried to work out whether this was sweet or stalkerish, and opted for the former. It wasn't like he was much better, really.

'The first time I saw you,' he said slowly, 'you were wearing a charcoal grey suit with a dark red shirt. It looked great; red really suits you. And you stood up to let an old lady sit down. I liked that.'

Wufei laughed. 'I have two very strong-minded grandmothers. They would both beat me to a pulp if they thought I wasn't being courteous to older people.'

'My parents would do the same. Do you have a big family?'

It turned out that Wufei, while not blessed, or cursed, with a multitude of sisters, came from a huge, very close extended family. 'Practically an entire clan, actually,' he admitted, grinning.

'And do they have a problem with you being gay?' Quatre asked. 'Since you're the only son.'

'It's not what they'd prefer, precisely,' Wufei told him. 'But I have plenty of male cousins to carry on the family name, so I get away with being the arty one who's not interested in business. Or women. What about you? You're the only boy too; don't your parents mind?'

Quatre laughed. 'I'm the only boy, _and_ the youngest, and consequently I'm utterly spoiled. If I went out and killed someone, my family would probably convince themselves that he'd deserved it and I'd been totally justified in what I'd done. Being gay is fairly small in comparison to that. Plus my parents already have twelve grandchildren, which takes the pressure off a little bit.'

'Lots of nieces and nephew?'

'Oh, yes. It's wonderful; I get to spoil them and then take them home and let their parents cope with kids on a total sugar high'

'I do that too,' Wufei admitted. 'My cousin Meiran has twin seven-year-old girls; I usually bring them out at the weekend and then take them home when they get too uncontrollable.'

Quatre burst out laughing. 'One major benefit of being gay, yes?'

'There are other benefits.' Wufei leaned over the table a little, taking his hand. 'Don't you think?'

Ah. Quatre caught his breath, feeling suddenly like he had when they'd zoomed off on that motorbike. The chatty, charming young man in front of him, who'd been discussing families and children, also happened to be very, very attractive. Those very beautiful dark eyes had the most intriguing capacity to smoulder, and the touch of his hand was making him regret, very much, that they weren't alone.

They hadn't even kissed yet.

'We should order.' Wufei pulled his chair a little closer, around the small round table, and one thumb gently brushed Quatre's lower lip. Nowhere near a kiss, but shockingly intimate all the same.

'Don't you think?'

'I think,' Quatre whispered, 'that I don't want you to stop doing that.'

'No?' The pad of his thumb pressed a little deeper, Quatre could feel the nail resting against his upper lip, and those long, golden fingers were stroking his cheek, and Wufei's eyes were holding his.

They hadn't even kissed and he was already aching from desire.

It had never been like this, not even with Trowa. But then Trowa had just grabbed him – without even asking - and there hadn't been this slow burn of gathering need. Wufei, Quatre thought, would probably ask first. He'd probably know the answer before he did.

When Wufei finally moved his hand, Quatre had to cross his legs, and rearrange his napkin. There was a definite glint in the other man's eyes, watching him. Not quite so diffident, after all.

Ordering their meal was a pleasant voyage into each other's tastes. They liked the same wines; had a preference for Mediterranean foods, preferred starters to dessert. Trowa had revealed an unexpected sweet tooth; Wufei didn't.

The food, as always in this restaurant, was perfect.

Wufei let Quatre try his crepes with Gorgonzola while they talked about music and a watercolour exhibition they'd both visited. They traded main courses, over family stories, and found out that Quatre's sister Camilla had been at university with one of Wufei's cousins, and that their mothers were involved with some of the same charities.

'So I've probably met your mother,' Quatre said cheerfully, spooning up the last of Wufei's couscous. Trowa would probably have snapped at him for stealing his food. 'Mama is always having ladies' lunches and tea parties at home for her friends.'

Wufei smiled. 'Do you think she'll approve of me?'

'Well, she'd probably really like to see me with a doctor, but I suppose an art historian might be just about acceptable. Oh, she'll definitely like you.'

That was true. Quatre had rarely brought his boyfriends home, although his parents had asked, simply because there had never been anyone serious. His family would like Wufei. Very definitely. A polite, professional young man from the right sort of background, who treated Quatre like a prince.

They would approve of that.

They'd probably have him married off before coffee.

'They're having a fortieth wedding anniversary party in a couple of weeks, actually, if you'd be interested. I always end up going to these sorts of things alone; it would be nice to have a partner.'

'I'd love to,' Wufei said at once. 'Thank you. Forty years; that's impressive.'

Quatre nodded. 'Isn't it? I was talking one of my best friends this morning; he's just got engaged and I suppose it's all got me thinking about relationships and all that. Can you imagine spending forty years with the same person and still being madly in love with them?'

'I'd like to,' the Chinese man said quietly. 'I'd love to, really.' He was looking down at his plate, the plate Quatre had cleared, not meeting his eyes, before glancing up. 'Wouldn't you? If you met the right man?'

It was all very serious. Very serious for a first date, unless you counted the tea house as the first. Still serious for a second date. They hardly knew each other, and they were, however, obliquely, discussing the possibility of a long-term relationship.

'Oh, I would. My friend, the one who's just got engaged, said this morning that when he met his partner for the first time, he just knew he'd met the right person. My parents always say the same thing. But I didn't think it would ever happen to me. I've never felt that seriously about anyone. Have you?'

'Just once.' Wufei glanced up, a smile gleaming in his eyes. 'I thought he was taken though, the first time I saw him, so there was no point trying to get to know him.'

'How very honourable of you. But now you've found out that he's not taken after all.' His blue eyes met that smile, reflecting the happiness.

Was this how it felt then? This effortless connection, the sheer _acceptance_ of it all.

'I'd love to see you again.'

Quatre nodded enthusiastically. 'Yes, please!'

'I'm afraid I'm going to be out of town for the next couple of days; the gallery is sending me to a conference in Madrid. May I call you when I get back?'

'You can call me anytime you like,' Quatre said sincerely. ' As often as you like.'


	12. Chapter 12

Note: Many thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing, and to KS for editing.

**Chapter 12:**

_In which Quatre weighs up his options, with a little help from his friends…._

'You were on a date with Trowa?' Dorothy Catalonia's voice rose to crystal-shattering levels. 'No way.'

'One date, yes.' Quatre carefully held the 'phone away from his ear. He liked Dorothy; he really did, but he was already running late for his lunch appointment and Treize tended to be rather less tolerant of his punctuality issues than his other friends. 'How did you know?'

'Sylvia Noventa said her parents saw you in The Mermaid with him, but I thought she was just pulling my leg. _Duo's_ Trowa?'

'I suppose so. Anyway, it doesn't matter. We won't be seeing each other again, and I'm trying to tell you about the most amazing man I was out with last night.'

'Trowa with the amazing green eyes and _that_ body?' Dorothy screeched, getting her facts straight. '_Seriously_? Wow. Did you sleep with him?'

'Of course I didn't. You know I never sleep with people on the first date.'

'Whatever. You idiot. I can't believe you didn't jump on him. Or let him jump on you. Come on, Quatre, reality check. It's not like you're ever going to get a second chance with him. He's way, way out of your league.'

'Ah, remind me again why we're friends, will you?' Quatre asked, nettled. 'And why exactly is he so out of my league? Not that I care in the least because I've met someone else who's crazy about me.'

She sighed. 'Because you're not his type, not remotely. You've got this cute, blond, innocent thing going on, and he's all brooding and smouldering like Heathcliff. He might have been tempted the one time, but I don't think he'd be interested enough to try again. You're not edgy enough.'

'I can be perfectly edgy if I want!'

'Oh, _please_. You think taking full-fat milk on your cereal is living on the edge.'

'Just because I'm not a total slut like you are, doesn't mean I'm not edgy.'

She snorted with laughter. 'Sure, Quatre. You're about as edgy as one of your cashmere scarves.'

'Scarves are edgy. You can use them for bondage or for garrotting people or lots of other things,' Quatre retorted. 'Dorothy, can we stop talking about Trowa, please? I want to tell you about Wufei.'

'Yeah, the art guy. He sounds boring. Like someone your parents would love.'

'And what's wrong with that?' It was true, though; they would. Wufei was perfectly suitable in every way; his ideal partner. Far, far better than Trowa, who was infuriating and aggravating and liked to maul people at every opportunity.

Dorothy sighed. 'Never mind. Anyway, it doesn't matter, does it? You had your chance, and that's that. It's such a damn waste that he's gay though. I'd grab him like a shot. Heh, maybe I could try to convert him.'

'Well, he _is_ gay,' Quatre snapped. 'So he certainly wouldn't be interested in you. I may not be _edgy_ but at least I'm the right sex for him.'

'Meow,' she retorted. 'Don't try to be bitchy, Quat. You can't carry it off. And if you're not interested in him, why do you care who he's with? You've got your boring guy who takes you to art shows and stuff.'

'He. Is. Not. Boring. Anyway, I have to go. I'm supposed to be meeting Treize at one.'

She snickered. 'In which case you're already late. OK. Will I see you at Sylvia's party tonight?'

'Probably. My sister Camilla's asked me to dinner first so I'll be late getting there. See you tonight.'

_Right, Winner. Move. Stop daydreaming_.

Zechs called just as he was pulling into the restaurant car park; a mere, miraculous fifteen minutes late. Even Treize couldn't hassle him over that; after all, he lived with Duo who had no concept of time whatsoever.

Oh, hi Zechs. What's up?'

'I think I should be asking you that. I hear you've bagged the deliciously exotic Chang Wufei. Is that true?'

'How do you know?' Hah. Deliciously exotic. Not boring in the least. And Zechs had to be a better judge of male attractiveness than a stupid straight girl. Even a slutty one like Dorothy.

'I have my sources.' Zechs made an attempt to sound mysterious and then laughed. 'I was at the gallery earlier and Duo mentioned it. Very nice, Quatre. Duo said he's totally smitten with you.'

'Um, Duo talks too much.' Quatre blushed slightly. He'd called his friend at what Duo had called an ungodly early hour that morning and gushed about Wufei's many perfections. After a while, Treize had come on the line and said that Duo had fallen asleep. 'But yes, we had the most amazing time last night.'

'Oh, really? Something you want to share?'

'A sculpture exhibition and dinner,' Quatre said primly.

'Ah, yes. The whole no sex on the first date rule.'

'Precisely.' Not that Wufei had pushed or anything; respectful, chivalrous person that he was. Perfect for Quatre. 'Do you know him?'

'Not personally. I've been to a couple of his lectures, and I know some of his colleagues. You've done quite well for yourself there. Those cheekbones! I'd love to paint him; do you think you could persuade him to model for me?'

'I could ask. But you're not painting my boyfriend in the nude!'

'Spoilsport,' Zechs teased. 'Your boyfriend, is he? After one date? Fast, Winner. Not that I blame you in the least. He's quite the catch, you know. His family must be worth a fortune, not that that matters to you, apart from his personal attractions. He's a master in all sorts of martial arts, you know; he must have the most amazing body.'

'No, I didn't know. He never said anything.' Quatre frowned at the clock on his dashboard. It was a little disconcerting. He'd thought he had Wufei all figured out as scholarly and cultured and rather shy. Then there was the motorbike, and now this black belt stuff.

'Mmm.' Zechs sighed dreamily. 'It's so sexy, isn't it? The whole warrior/scholar mix. You know, like Superman. I can just imagine him taking off those absurdly adorable glasses and letting his hair down and launching into those flying kicks they do.'

'I think you've been watching too many Chinese films. But I'll ask him about the painting. Maybe we could all have dinner during the week? I really have to go now. I'm meeting Treize.'

There. It was all perfect. Wufei would fit perfectly into his life. And Zechs was right, the thought of those flying kicks was rather sexy.

It was one of his and Treize's rituals; lunch on a Saturday if they were both free. Quatre couldn't remember any more how it had first started. It was at one of their lunches that Treize had first told him about Duo, that Quatre had told him he was planning to come out officially to his family. It was on a Saturday afternoon, when he was eighteen, that he'd told Treize he'd failed the entrance examination for the Sanque Conservatory of Music.

They took turns to choose the restaurant; Treize had picked a little Vietnamese place close to the gallery.

'How's Duo?' Quatre asked, once they'd ordered, and he'd taken a few sips of his tea. 'I thought he was coming.'

Treize gave him a shrewd look. 'Duo's fine; Lucrezia had an appointment at the dentist so he's minding the gallery, as I've already told you twice. Laragh is fine; the horses are fine, and my roses are flourishing. Why don't you tell you me what's very obviously on your mind?'

Quatre bit his lip. 'May I ask you a hypothetical question?'

'I rather doubt it will be hypothetical, but yes, of course you may.'

'What would you have done if you'd been seeing someone when you first met Duo?'

'Oh, Quatre.' It was Treize's turn to look away for a minute. 'You know the answer to that without asking. I would have tried not to hurt this hypothetical boyfriend, to let him down as gently as possible, but I would have chosen Duo. Who are these two men you have to choose between? I thought you were happy with Wufei. You certainly sounded happy this morning when you were telling me about him.'

'Um.' Quatre fiddled with his chopsticks. 'Duo had this thing about wanting to fix me up with Trowa.'

'Not any more. I think he realised you'd fallen for someone else after the second hour of you talking about Wufei. I don't think you two would be remotely compatible. Wufei sounds much suitable.'

'I don't see why,' Quatre muttered. 'Why can no one see me with Trowa?'

Treize smiled, sipping at his wine. 'I can't imagine you two would have anything in common.'

'Well, I like him.'

'You called me the day after you went out with him and spent an hour complaining about him,' Treize reminded him. 'Remember? He criticised the food at your favourite restaurant, in which I have to admit he was justified, he argued with you constantly, and then took off in a huff. It's hardly the start of a great romance.'

'It wasn't that bad. Of course, we don't actually have a lot in common; you're right about that. He doesn't even like opera.'

Treize laughed. 'Nor does Duo, really. We don't find it an insurmountable barrier. Now, tell me more about Wufei. Is he interested in you?'

'Oh, yes.' And that, in all honesty, was a balm to the fact that Trowa hadn't been.

'Sensible man. Quatre, I don't really understand why you've got a problem.'

'Trowa.'

Blue eyes rolled. 'What about Trowa? I thought we'd just established he wasn't right for you.'

'We did.' Quatre pushed some noodles around his plate. 'He's not, in so many ways. I mean, he hasn't even called me. And he's totally _infuriating_, most of the time. I spent _hours_ getting ready for our date, and he never once told me I looked nice. He never even called me to thank me for dinner.'

'I think we've established that he hasn't called you at this stage,' Treize said dryly. 'Quatre, that's probably part of his fascination. You're used to men being highly attentive. You're naturally interested in someone who's a challenge, but I think you should forget about him. You've been dreaming about Chang for weeks now, and you've finally met him. Do you want to mess that up?'

'No. I don't.'

'Well then.'

'You're right,' Quatre said resolutely. 'Of course you're right. Wufei's wonderful. It's just…I like Trowa as well.'

Treize lifted an eyebrow. 'Are you sure about that? I think you're intrigued by someone who's not prepared to roll over and lie at your feet like every other man you've ever dated. And Duo's been trying to get you together, and you didn't want to disappoint him.'

'Is he?' Quatre looked down at his plate, at the tangle of fish and noodles. He couldn't even remember what he'd ordered. This was _stupid_. 'Disappointed that I'm not with Trowa?'

He didn't even know why he was asking. He'd finally told Duo about Wufei and Duo hadn't even mentioned Trowa. He'd just been thrilled that Quatre was happy.

'Quatre, I would do anything in the world to make Duo happy, but even I wouldn't expect you to be with someone just because he thinks it would be a good idea. Of course he's not disappointed. He's delighted you've met somebody you like so much.'

'Why don't you like him? Trowa?'

'You could ask him the same question. He doesn't like me being a part of Duo's life.'

Quatre twiddled the noodles with his fork. It was no good; there were some questions he couldn't ask even Treize.

_Was your boyfriend – fiancé – ever Trowa Barton's lover?_

It was odd, really; he'd only started thinking about that in the last day or so. Since he'd been out with Trowa. Treize and Duo were such a perfect equation that it was hard to imagine either of them being with somebody else. But Duo and Trowa had lived together once, they'd been friends for years, and Trowa had quite obviously been furious at the engagement.

'That's stupid,' he said finally. 'You and Duo belong together. Anyone can see that.'

'Not Trowa, apparently.' Treize's tone was very dry. 'Leave it, Quatre. I've made every effort with him, for Duo's sake. You've found a man you like and who sounds perfect for you.'

'You're right.' Quatre made his tone very resolute. Of course his friend was perfectly right. He had Wufei, the man he'd been dreaming about for weeks at this point. He had the perfect man who was apparently smitten with him.

He didn't owe Trowa anything. It was stupid to feel those tiny spikes of guilt that he'd found someone else and moved on.

End of story.

Decision made, his appetite returned, and the food was really very good. His 'phone rang just as Treize was calling for the bill.

'Hey.'

Trowa. Fancy that.

'Hello. This is a surprise. I thought you'd lost my number. Or emigrated or something. Since you never called me.'

'I'm calling you now. So,' Trowa said, as if continuing a conversation they'd been holding, and apparently oblivious to blinding saracasm. 'I was wondering; if you were free tonight, we could maybe do something?'

'Tonight?' Quatre echoed, making a face at Treize. 'Trowa, it's Saturday. It's lunchtime on Saturday.'

'I know what day it is. Oh. Right. You have plans?'

'Well, of _course_ I have plans. You can't just call people at the weekend, totally out of the blue, and expect them to be free when it's convenient for you.'

'Right,' Trowa said again, actually sounding amused. 'Sorry I asked. I'll see you around.'

'That's it?' Quatre demanded. 'You're not even going to suggest an alternative night? You obviously don't want to see me very much.'

'Quatre. I wanted to see you tonight.' He said it very slowly, like he was explaining something to someone who wasn't very bright. 'You're busy. I'll call you some other time. Or should I get in touch with your social secretary first?'

'You're not remotely funny,' Quatre said tartly.

'I bet you have a diary though. One of those electronic ones.'

'Of course I do! Doesn't everybody? God, you're so infuriating. What were you thinking of us doing tonight?'

'Doesn't matter, does it? If you already have plans made.'

Infuriating, _exasperating_ man.

'Before you knew I had plans,' Quatre grated, 'what were you going to suggest?'

'I was going to ask you out to my place and cook you dinner, actually.'

'Oh.' That sounded rather tempting. It wasn't as if he had _concrete_ plans. He'd been invited to a couple of parties and dinner at his sister Camilla's house, and one of his sisters was organising a charity gala, and some friends were planning to see a film he'd been meaning to watch.

He was a popular person with lots of friends. It was practically insulting for Trowa to assume that he'd be sitting at home on a Saturday night. Ready to jump whenever Trowa decided to snap his fingers.

'Well, I do have plans. And I don't see why I should have to cancel them at the last minute.'

'You don't,' Trowa said mildly. 'I'm sorry if asking you to dinner offended you so much. I'm not that bad of a cook.'

'You didn't _offend_ me! What's offensive is you calling me at two o'clock and expecting I'd drop everything to be with you.'

'I don't expect you to. I didn't realise I had to make a reservation to see you, that's all.'

'Well, you do!' Quatre flashed, and then realised how stupid that sounded. And it was rather sad that Trowa was apparently alone on a Saturday night. All alone.

'Actually, I don't have any definite plans. I could cancel my arrangements,' he offered.

'No, I'm sorry, this was a stupid idea. Of course you have stuff to do. I don't want to mess up your night.'

'Trowa! You're not.' OK, he was apparently going to see Trowa again. Not a date or anything. Just dinner. Dinner and conversation and he could mention Wufei and stop feeling guilty, even though he had _nothing_ to feel guilty about; even Duo had said so. 'What's your address?'

'I'll collect you. I need to get some stuff in town this afternoon. About six?'

'Well, I suppose so, but I'd really rather drive myself.'

'You have a four wheel drive? I live out in the sticks, and it's a couple of miles of dirt track.'

'Oh. All right then.' There was no way he was risking his darling little car on a road like that. 'In that case, six would be fine. I'll see you then.'

He snapped his 'phone shut and glared at Treize, who had watched the whole episode with a carefully studied lack of expression.

'Don't say it. Just don't say it, Treize. I'm serious. I'm not doing anything wrong. It's just dinner. And it's an opportunity to tell him about Wufei, so I'll have that off my conscience. Wufei and I aren't officially a couple and even if we were, there's nothing to say I can't meet a friend for a meal.'

'This may be a good point to say that I haven't actually said anything yet,' Treize observed. His tone was very mild, but there was a suspicious glint in those blue eyes.

'You didn't need to! I can tell what you're thinking. I'm very sensitive to people's emotions and I know exactly what you think of all this. I know you think it's a bad idea, and I can see why, but nothing's going to happen. I know Wufei is ideal for me and Trowa would drive me insane in twenty four hours. Wufei calls me all the time and he's romantic and sensitive and I really like him, and you can just stop looking at me like that!'

'My apologies.' Treize averted his eyes to his plate and studied the remains of his dinner. 'I'm actually wondering why you need anyone. You're the only person I've ever met who can conduct a running argument with himself.'

'Well, you're not exactly helping,' Quatre said crossly. 'Just sitting there laughing at me. I don't see why everyone thinks I'm so wrong for Trowa, anyway. I could be edgy if I wanted. I could do kinky bondage things with ping-pong balls and drink shots and drive over the speed limit. I _could_.'

'Kinky bondage tricks?' Treize's eyes gleamed at him. 'Is there something you need to tell me, Quatre?'

'No!' Quatre backpedalled frantically. 'It was just an example. Dorothy said I wasn't edgy enough for Trowa.'

'Which is immaterial, anyway, since you're not interested in him.' One eyebrow lifted questioningly.

'Huh. I don't know what Duo sees in you.'

'Love is blind,' Treize agreed blandly. 'Now, tell me, what do you see in Trowa? Apart from the obvious physical attraction?'

'I never said I was attracted to him. He has beautiful eyes, though, and he's really intelligent and funny and totally exasperating, and he bosses me around, he's never paid me a single compliment _ever_, and I suppose there's chemistry, if that's what it's called. Sparks. He makes me feel more alive, like the world is different. Edgier.' He glanced up and blue eyes met blue.

'You told me, once, how you felt when you met Duo. That you'd found the missing piece to complete who you were, who you should be.'

'You feel like that about Barton?'

'No.' Quatre said quietly. 'I feel that way about Wufei.'

That was the crux of it, really. Wufei was perfect for the person Quatre _was_; the perfect complement to his perfect life.

Trowa, on the other hand; Trowa was _more_.


	13. Chapter 13

Note: The Gundam Wing characters do not belong to me and I'm not making any monetary profit from this.

Many thanks to KS, for editing, and to all my wonderful reviewers.

**Chapter 13:**

_In which the scales gradually start to tilt in Trowa's favour… _

He and Duo had lived in an apartment once, when they'd first arrived in Sanque. Nothing like Quatre's fancy building; even then they could have afforded better than the dump they'd lived in, but no one expected two new immigrants to have money. It had been better to keep a low profile until they sorted out covers for themselves.

There was a uniformed doorman to open the door with a flourish, and another to direct him to the lifts.

'Mr. Barton? Mr. Winner is expecting you.'

The guy even pushed the button for him; the penthouse, of course.

Even the lift was nice; plush carpets and a small chandelier and the gilded mirror was a fairly good reproduction. He wondered how Quatre had described him; horrible clothes and a ridiculous hairstyle, probably. Trowa made a face at himself in the mirror; he hadn't bothered to change out of his usual clothes. There wasn't any point; he didn't have anything that would be remotely right for a place like this, and he'd just look like he was trying too hard.

God, though. The things he did for Duo. He'd probably end up fucking proposing to Quatre, just to keep Duo happy and stop him feeling guilty about leaving Trowa. It had been months since he'd tried fixing him up with anyone, so he'd guessed just how this engagement was bound to affect him.

Still, he could survive one night with the prissy little blond. Hopefully. Not that Quatre was interested in him anyway, and he sure as hell wouldn't be once he saw Trowa's very non-penthouse style of living.

It was just one night. One night to convince Quatre of just how incompatible they were, and then Duo would hopefully back off his subtle-as-a-sledgehammer matchmaking schemes.

'The door's open,' Quatre called when Trowa knocked. 'I'll just be two minutes. I'm still getting dressed.'

On his drive into town, Trowa had tried to work out what the blond's home would be like. He hadn't been able to decide between aggressively modern and minimalist, which was the 'in' décor at the moment, or else something like the restaurant they'd gone to.

Both were wrong. It was smaller than Trowa had imagined a penthouse suite would be, and just … normal. There were a few nice pieces of art, including a lovely watercolour of an Arabian stallion that had to be an original Merquise, but there were also kids' finger paintings and a couple of Duo's sketches. A violin on top of a music stand, and lots of books and literally hundreds of framed photographs. Duo was in some of them.

It was nice, in an unexpected sort of way. Cluttered and lived in and warm.

'Make yourself comfortable,' Quatre called over the drone of a hairdryer. 'I'm so sorry, Trowa; I'm always running late, no matter how hard I try.'

He made it sound like a charming personality quirk; Trowa hated unpunctuality.

'Do you always leave your front door open?'

'Sometimes, if I'm expecting guests. Why not? There's security downstairs.'

Shaking his head over that sort of naivety – they really did live in different worlds - Trowa moved a stack of magazines from a chair and sat down. A couple of gay publications; an _Amnesty International_ newsletter, flyers from a travel company that specialised in out-of-the way locations, and _National Geographic._ The magazines Trowa himself read, pretty much.

He hadn't noticed the cat at first; an elegant Siamese perched on a small velvet-covered stool. She hissed delicately at his outstretched hand, baring her teeth at him, and then deliberately turned her back.

Great. He could charm lions but Quatre Winner's cat wouldn't give him the time of day.

Not good enough for her owner either, probably.

'Your cat's not very friendly.'

'Oh, Samira's awful,' Quatre agreed cheerfully from behind the closed door; it was distracting to imagine him a few feet away, probably still naked. 'Just ignore her. She doesn't really like people. I'm barely tolerated and that's only because she needs a slave with opposable thumbs.'

The bedroom door swung open abruptly and he was confronted with Quatre Winner's blinding smile. He looked like he was going to a garden party; perfectly pressed khaki slacks and a lilac cashmere sweater.

'Hello! It's lovely to see you again.' He reached up to kiss Trowa's cheek. He smelled delicious, like he'd just bathed in coconut milk. Maybe he had. 'Can I get you a drink before we go?'

'No, I'm fine. I like this room.'

Quatre bent down to kiss his cat goodbye. 'It's awfully messy. I'm no good at being tidy and I don't like my cleaner to move things. Now, I have a bottle of wine for you, but I can't remember where I put it.'

Trowa couldn't help laughing. God, this dizzy guy would drive him insane. He was really cute though. 'On the sofa, I think.' He handed Quatre a gift bag that obviously contained a bottle and gestured to the door. 'Come on.'

The last time Quatre had been in his truck hadn't ended too well. The blond didn't show any sign he remembered, climbing in and chatting away happily. He finally shut up when Trowa pulled into his driveway, eyes huge.

'Gosh! You never told me we had to drive up a mountain. What happens if your truck breaks down?'

Trowa grinned. 'Then we walk. It's not actually that far; the road curves around a lot.' He glanced at Quatre's beautiful, polished leather shoes. They didn't look up to a hike; he'd probably have to carry the guy. 'It's OK. I've never broken down yet.'

'Why don't you get a properly paved road?' Quatre was clinging to the edges of his seat as the truck bounced around the track.

'It would cost too much. And I don't mind it.'

'I bet you don't get a lot of visitors though.'

'I don't want a lot of visitors.' He stopped the car and got out to swing the gate open. Quatre's eyes, reading the _Trespassers will be Eaten_ sign were huge.

'How many dogs do you actually have?'

'Right now? Ten.'

Quatre gulped audibly. 'Really?'

'They're not all mine. I have a couple boarding and some that are here for training. It's OK. They're all shut up for the evening; you won't have to see them.' He'd never done that much for any visitors before. After all, the dogs lived there; visitors were there on sufferance.

'Thank you. I'm not sure if Duo told you but I'm a little nervous around dogs, especially big ones.'

'You never had pets growing up?'

'Cats, yes. And horses. But my father's allergic to dogs.'

'Are you?' Trowa gave him a sharp look as he pulled up in front of the house; whatever tiny, infinitesimal chance they had of getting together, it wouldn't work if Quatre couldn't be around his pets.

'I don't think so. I've been around Laragh and I'm not sneezing or covered in a rash or anything like that.'

'Good. Now come on in.'

Trowa held the front door open, found he was holding his breath with it. People tended to love or loathe his house. He didn't normally care which, but he wanted Quatre to like it.

'Wow.' The blond literally danced into the middle of the huge room. 'This is amazing.'

'Thanks.' Trowa ducked his head; he was no good at getting compliments. Or giving them. He'd designed the house himself, pretty much, with Duo's help, and they'd more or less built it together, with just a bit of help from Howard and some guys he knew in the building trade. It was open plan, all of it, with a few screens you could shift about for privacy, and a couple of mezzanine levels for the bedrooms.

'I love it.' Quatre was flitting about, looking at his books and the couple of photographs, and the few pieces of furniture Trowa had made himself, and coming to a halt in front of the painting over the fireplace. 'This is one of Zechs', isn't it?'

Trowa nodded. The painting was the most valuable thing he owned, after the actual house and land.

It had seemed appropriate, somehow, to celebrate his official retirement (more or less) from the murkier corners of the art world by taking legitimate ownership of a painting. Duo's idea, naturally. And he'd loved it from the moment he saw it hanging in the Khushrenada Gallery.

'It's so beautiful.'

'Yeah,' Trowa crossed the room to stand beside him. It was beautiful. The soft colours of sunrise on a river, and a heron in flight.

'I love herons,' Quatre said quietly. 'They're my favourite birds, after flamingos. I go running by the river a few mornings a week; if I'm lucky I see grey herons.'

'I'd hate to live in a town.' Trowa stretched up one hand, touched the bird's neck and then the artist's signature, in its characteristic swirly, green letters. 'You know him, don't you?'

'Zechs? Yes, I've known him all my life. Do you?'

'A bit. I've met him at Treize's a few times.'

'Isn't it strange, how we know so many of the same people?' Quatre turned away from the painting. 'And we never met properly until last week.'

Trowa shrugged. Of course they _had_ met. Duo was relentlessly sociable; always asking people over for meals, or arranging nights out. He'd never really paid much attention to the blond before. He was one of Trieze's people. And he'd always had someone on his arm, drooling over him.

'Can I get you a beer or something? The wine's going to take a while to chill.'

'That would be lovely, please.' Trowa grinned to himself; opening the fridge. Quatre sounded like a well-mannered schoolboy sometimes. His mother was probably very proud of her polite son.

He'd imagined Quatre would take a few polite sips; he didn't seem like a beer-drinker. The blond surprised him by tilting the bottle and tossing back half the contents. 'There's something I need to tell you.'

For some reason, he expected it to be about Duo. It was a surprise when Quatre told him about a Chinese guy that he'd met.

It was fucking great news in one way. Duo couldn't expect him to romance Quatre if Quatre had met the man of his dreams. Shit, his whole plan for the evening had been to convince Quatre of just how unsuitable they were, and he probably wouldn't need much convincing. It was, also, just a little bit galling.

He just shrugged, draining a few inches of his own beer. 'Nice for you. Why're you bothering to tell me?'

Quatre's tongue tip touched his upper lip – the way he did when he was thinking about something. It was pretty sexy. Kissable. 'I thought I should.'

'Why?' Trowa persisted. 'It's not like I think you're accountable to me. We went out once; that was all. And you obviously don't think it, or you wouldn't have hooked up with some new guy. Or maybe you would; it's not like I know you at all, is it?'

'Shit!' The beer bottle in Quatre's hand was abruptly slammed on to the table. It was like hearing the Pope swear. 'How _dare_ you say something like that? You are so damn right that I'm not accountable to you, Barton! You said yourself, we had one date, and you made it very clear that you were only interested in me for sex.'

Trowa blinked. 'Excuse me? I did no such thing.'

'Yes, you did,' Quatre yelled at him. 'You practically threw me out of your truck when I said I didn't want to sleep with you.'

'What did you want me to do? Sit there and discuss soybean cultivation with you for an hour before you went to bed? Fuck it, Winner, you were all over me and we were both about to come anyway. I didn't think you were going to act like some nun if I suggested going into your place where we'd be a bit more comfortable.'

'I'm used to being propositioned with a little more finesse, actually,' Quatre snapped back. 'And stop laughing at me. It isn't funny!'

Trowa wiped his streaming eyes with one sleeve. 'Oh, come on. Where's your sense of humour? You mean you'd have slept with me if I'd made some flowery speech about it first? Quoted poetry to you?'

Quatre, to his eternal credit, grinned. 'It still isn't funny. And I never sleep with anyone on the first date.'

'And on the second?'

At some point, during the mutual yelling, they'd leaned across the table toward each other. Now, their faces were only a few inches apart.

Quatre licked his lips, a bit nervously. 'Is this a date?'

'It sort of was, up 'til you said you'd found someone else, yeah.'

'Oh. I really didn't think you were interested in me.' He looked very young suddenly; not his usual confident self. Trowa wasn't sure how old he was, actually; a few years older than Duo, maybe. Twenty four or five? A bit younger than Trowa's twenty six. 'In any case, I'm not sure that I want to be involved with someone who's in love with one of my closest friends.'

Trowa took a long swallow of beer, playing for time. 'What does that mean?'

'You and Duo. You love him, don't you?'

Another long mouthful. 'It's complicated. You wouldn't understand.'

'Try me,' Quatre suggested tightly. 'And please don't say he's like your brother or something. I disapprove of incest.'

Trowa found he was grinning, suddenly. Christ, he was something else; this one. 'OK. About me and Duo; you know we both grew up on L2. Right? He was seven when I first met him; or he thought he was anyway. Neither of us know our birthdays. He'd been in this orphanage for a year. Did you know about that?'

Quatre nodded, which was surprising. Trowa hadn't realised Duo confided in him that much; he normally never talked about that part of his past.

'Well, the place was firebombed one night. The priest in charge had been making waves for the local drug dealers, trying to get kids cleaned up, to get the pushers run out of his neighbourhood. I don't want if they planned for the whole place to go up; but a lot of the structure was wood. Anyway, Duo got out; he's a survivor. I met him a few weeks after. I'd been by myself for a while but on the streets, it makes sense to have someone to watch your back. We looked out for one another.'

'Were you ever lovers?' Quatre had his chin cupped in both hands, leaning over the kitchen table to look at him.

Trowa sighed. 'It wasn't just about sex. It was about other stuff. I knew you wouldn't get it.'

'I think I do, actually.' Trowa hadn't realised before that there was green in his eyes. Aquamarine. 'Treize has told me some stories about being in the army. About that sort of….bond, is it?...that you form between other people when you're in danger all the time?'

'Something like that.'

He tended to forget that aspect of Treize's past. It just didn't go with his present; owning the gallery, being photographed for the celebrity columns, cooking his finicky gourmet meals and fussing about the perfect wines to complement them, but he was something of a military hero.

It occurred to him, suddenly, that maybe Treize wanted his life to be that way; in order to distance himself from things he'd done in the past. Trowa could understand that, actually.

One of Quatre's fingers traced a pattern in his spilt beer on the table top. 'He never talks about Africa, much. One of the things he said, was that he survived, well, coped, I suppose, by taking care of the people in his immediate command. That if he could keep them safe, whatever the cost to himself, whatever it meant he had to do, that he could justify the things he did, and find a way to live with himself.'

'Yeah.' Trowa stood up abruptly. Shit. Even Duo probably couldn't put it like that. Trowa wasn't sure if he could have verbalised it himself the way Quatre had. The guy probably thought it was a disaster if he broke a fingernail, or ripped a thread on his sweater, and he'd just summed up Trowa's life. 'I should get started with dinner.'

'May I help?'

He'd never have thought it, but Quatre was pretty capable in the kitchen; good enough that Trowa left him alone with the sauce while he went to check on the animals for the night.

He got through that by concentrating on the routine, not letting himself think about the things Quatre had said. Not until he was back at the house, and couldn't avoid it any more. It wasn't like he could spend the whole night avoiding the blond, although he gave himself a few minutess' grace by slumping into the hammock on the back porch.

_Shit._

Just as well he'd found someone else, really. Let this unknown Chinese guy get sucked in by all that dizzy innocence, until Quatre turned his universe upside down with a couple of precise sentences.

He didn't even notice the blond had come out until Quatre spoke.

'It's all right. I've left the gas on really low.'

'It's OK.' Not really thinking about it, he extended one hand, and Quatre let himself be pulled into the hammock beside him. He wriggled to get comfortable, ending up with his head tucked under Trowa's chin. All that silky blond hair was ticklish against his skin.

'Does he know?'

'Don't you ever give up?' Normally, this sort of persistence would have driven him mad. He was inclined to let Quatre away with it, for whatever reason, which was saying something for Trowa Barton who never talked about his feelings, or let other people probe at them. It was dangerous. 'It's none of your business, anyway.'

'It might be,' Quatre said carefully.

'You have someone else.'

'So have you, apparently,' Quatre said tartly. 'I'm not sure I do really. We've been out once; we haven't made any definite plans to see each other again.'

Trowa snorted. 'What, he hasn't called you either? You must be losing your touch.'

'Oh, he has called. Lots of times. But he's tied up at work for the next few days. I do know he wants to go out with me again.'

'Anyone would.' Trowa said it without thinking and Quatre gasped.

'I think that's the first nice thing you've ever said to me.'

'I'm not good with compliments.'

'Wufei is.'

'Better stick with him then.'

'Maybe I should. I can't decide if I even like you or not. You're a total jerk, most of the time.'

Trowa grinned; he'd presumably picked that expression up from Duo. 'Maybe I don't want you to like me. Maybe I don't want to like you either.'

Quatre sniffed; a graphic little sound in the silence of the night. '_Everyone_ likes me. Why ever would you say something like that?'

'Because it gets old pretty soon; liking someone and then losing them.'

The blond wrapped one arm around his waist. 'I imagine it was awful when he left,' he remarked conversationally. 'But he's one person. It doesn't mean you have to lose everyone you'll ever care for.'

Trowa removed the arm, very deliberately, and got up, taking care not to tip Quatre out. 'Historical precedence says otherwise, actually. It's probably time to check on dinner. Do you want to eat out here? It's getting cold, now the sun's gone down.'

Quatre followed him inside; they managed to fill the next twenty minutes with talking about favourite food, and recipes, and then sat down to eat.

'I'm glad you asked me here,' Quatre said suddenly, accepting a glass of wine. 'Aren't you going to have some?'

'That's up to you.' Trowa placed the bottle, and an extra glass, in the centre of the table. 'If I drink any more, I won't be able to drive you home. D'you want to stay?'

Quatre pushed some rice around his plate, considering. 'I'm not sure. Do you have a spare room?'

'No.'

Those blue eyes drifted over to Trowa's two big couches. 'I suppose I could stay. If you wanted me to.'

'Up to you.' Trowa took a slug of the water he'd poured for himself. This was stupid. Better off just to take him home and forget about him. 'If you don't mind me saying, this other guy sounds more like your type. Someone who'll probably write you a sonnet when he wants to fuck you.'

'That's what Treize said.' Quatre laughed suddenly. 'Oh, not about the sonnet, although I'd rather like that. That Wufei was more my type.'

Trowa's mouth twisted. 'If Treize says it, it must be true. I can't imagine what you're even doing here if you talked to him about it. He's not exactly my number one fan.'

'Why don't you like him?'

Trowa shrugged. 'I have issues with the way he treats Duo.'

'What?' Quatre's eyes widened. 'He _adores_ Duo. I'd love someone who worshipped me the way Treize does.'

'Would you really? You wouldn't prefer a partner who treated you like an equal in the relationship? You've no idea how much Duo's changed in the last couple of years. Here, I'll show you something.' He thrust back his chair, scraping it noisily on the floor, and rummaged for the photograph.

'This is Duo, the year before he met Treize.'

A younger Duo blazed out of the photo. He'd just won a dirt-track race; they were officially illegal in Sanque. Too many injuries. Duo's helmet had fallen off at some point, his hair was mostly hanging loose, and he had a big scrape down one cheek. And that manic grin that Trowa hadn't seen in way too long; Duo Maxwell on a serious adrenalin high.

Quatre took his time studying it before handing it back. 'He doesn't look very happy, does he?'

'What the fuck does that mean? He was perfectly happy before he met Treize and got shut away in that gilded cage like Treize's little pet.'

'I think he looks as if he's determined to look happy.'

Trowa snatched the picture back. 'You don't know anything about it.'

'I know he loves Treize very much.'

'Yeah.' It always came back to that, in the end.

Quatre squeezed his hand, very gently, and then poured him a glass of wine.

'I'd like to stay, please, if you'll let me. You can't possibly expect me to drink all of this by myself.'


	14. Chapter 14

Note: As always, thanks to Kaeru Shisho for editing and to everyone who has been kind enough to comment.

**Chapter 13:**

_In which Trowa practises the rare art of anti-flirtation, and Quatre succumbs._

They washed up together, an pleasantly domestic thing to do, since Trowa didn't have a dishwasher. None of his other boyfriends (possible – potential – purely hypothetical boyfriends) had ever cooked for him before; he usually got taken to expensive restaurants.

'Now what?' Trowa hung his dishcloth on a hook over the sink.

'I'd like to go back outside for a while,' Quatre said finally. 'Do you think I could perhaps meet these dogs of yours?'

Trowa gave him a quick, pleased smile and found him a too-big jacket to wear. 'I have to check on them anyway. I promise, I won't let you get eaten.'

'I'll hold you to that.' He still lagged behind as they approached the kennels; it sounded like he had a hundred dogs, rather than ten.

It wasn't as bad as he thought it would be; instead of thrusting him inside, Trowa called out a couple of dogs to meet; a greyhound and a black collie-type with blue eyes.

'This is Cleo,' Trowa ruffled the black dog's ears. 'She's an Australian Shepherd; she's the boss.'

'She's lovely. I've never seen a dog with blue eyes before.' The dog graced him with a quick lick and then gazed adoringly up at Trowa. He'd be doing that himself soon, Quatre thought ruefully.

'She's great. Now, come on. You like horses?'

'I love them. Do you have horses too. I didn't know you rode.'

'A bit. They're not really mine. They belong to a circus I used to work at; I'm just looking after them for a couple of months while the owners are touring in the States.'

A circus. Ick. Quatre changed the subject quickly to the Arabians one of his elder sisters bred. Otherwise, he'd have nightmares about clowns.

There was a llama as well as the horses, and a couple of goats, and a pony that had been abandoned on the motorway.

'You're like Doctor Doolittle or something,' Quatre marvelled, scratching the pony's ears.

'Not quite,' Trowa chuckled, breaking up a handful of carrots and doling them out. 'I have plenty of space here; the city pound can only take so many animals. I usually end up with the ones that need a lot of room. I had a couple of swans last Winter with broken wings, and a fox that had been knocked down. I still see him around sometimes, if I don't have the dogs out with me.'

Afterwards, they sat on the porch again, Quatre sprawled in the hammock and Trowa on a chair beside him, giving him the occasional swing, the dogs at their feet.

Trowa's world; a million miles from his own.

They talked and watched the stars, and Quatre tried not to yawn too loudly. That was the problem with getting up at dawn every day. When Trowa suggested bed, he agreed, not really sure what was being offered.

One of the couches? Trowa's bed? Trowa's bed with them both in it?

He wasn't sure what he wanted either, which was a rare thing for Quatre Raberba Winner,

He still gave Trowa an uncertain glance when Trowa gestured to the stairs and the other man laughed at him.

'It's OK. I'm not expecting you to sleep with me.'

'You said you don't have a guest room.'

'I don't. You can have Duo's room.'

He'd half-expected the room to be some sort of Duo-shrine, but really it just looked like someone's junk room. There was a single bed surrounded by piles of books and magazines, and a few pieces of mismatched furniture.

It was dark, the sort of darkness that he wasn't really used to at home, where you could still see the streetlights through drawn curtains. The room – Duo's room – was angled so there was no light from downstairs, even though he could still hear Trowa moving about in the kitchen.

It was all very unexpected. Very unplanned, for someone who liked to work out the logistics of everything. Trowa was still so much of an unknown quantity. Part of the attraction, Quatre acknowledged honestly.

With Wufei, he'd felt in control, except for those first few minutes on the motorbike. That was what he wanted, wasn't it? Someone who clearly thought he was amazing, and had no compunction about showing it.

Trowa hadn't made all that much of an effort. From what Quatre had seen, he didn't even know how to flirt, or even how to make himself particularly agreeable. Except he'd shut his dogs out, because he knew Quatre wouldn't be comfortable with them. And he'd invited him into his amazing house and made him feel like he belonged there.

'Shit.' Quatre murmured it into the intense, velvety darkness, so dense it was almost a tangible presence. He'd probably never sworn so much in his life before he'd met Trowa.

_You wouldn't prefer a partner who treated you like an equal in the relationship? That's what I'd like. Not to be put on a pedestal._

People always put him on a pedestal; well, prospective boyfriends did. He was used to being flattered and humoured and indulged, and treated like something terribly precious. Trowa had never done any of those things, and probably never would. Trowa had never even acknowledged that he was attractive. Or not verbally, at least; there was obviously physical desire there.

Ugh, he was never going to sleep at this rate.

It was so quiet, bar Trowa's clattering downstairs, and one of the dogs – Quatre hoped it wasn't a wolf – howling outside, and then an unearthly sound that he'd never heard before. Oh, God. This place was probably haunted. At least Wufei hadn't brought him into the wilderness to be eaten by wolves. He had an apartment just a few train stations away from where Quatre lived.

So much more sensible.

He'd had it all planned out. Wufei would be a lovely boyfriend; after all, he'd been dreaming about the man since he'd first seen him. He'd known Trowa for a couple of years, and never given him a second's thought, except as Duo's friend. Definitely more than a friend, at some point, although Trowa had been very careful not to reveal their exact relationship. He'd never said for sure whether or not they'd been lovers.

He wondered if Treize knew.

It had all been _planned_. The plan had been to tell Trowa about Wufei, because that was only fair, and depending on Trowa's reaction, they might have been able to stay friends. He did like the man, after all. Mostly. When he wasn't been so deliberately annoying. He'd probably be an easier friend than a boyfriend, and it would please Duo. That had been the plan.

And then it had all gone wrong, and Trowa had almost kissed him and then revealed a sliver of his soul and his past and so much _pain_, with those odd little spurts of humour in amongst it all, and maybe this was how it felt to fall in love, except it was _nothing_ like how he'd felt with Wufei.

He'd never felt like that before.

He was sitting up in bed, chin resting on his knees and sheets pulled around his shoulder when Trowa came upstairs holding two mugs. He looked amazing. He'd taken off his shoes and that awful polo-neck sweater. In jeans and a tank top, he was seductive as sin.

'Nightcap. You like coffee with Bailey's, right?'

'I'll never sleep if I drink that.'

Trowa grinned. 'So? Tomorrow's Sunday. Or do you have somewhere you need to be first thing?'

'No.' He didn't drink coffee very much; it tasted wonderful. Creamy with an alcoholic kick from the liqueur. 'I just like getting up early. Then I have more time to do things.'

'Some things you can do at night, too.'

Quatre decided to ignore that. 'What was that awful noise? It sounded like a banshee or something.'

'Just an owl.' The grin broadened. 'You're such a city slicker.'

'I can't help that. And I have been to the countryside before, actually. I've been to Treize's hunting lodge quite a lot. It's horrible; I can't get reception for my phone or internet access or anything.'

'That must be a nightmare,' Trowa deadpanned. 'However did you cope?'

'Thank you for that wholly spurious piece of sympathy.' It was rather nice, discovering Trowa's sense of humour. Something Wufei hadn't revealed yet, under all that romantic intensity.

'I was being genuine,' the other man defended himself. 'Trying to empathise with those impossible periods of your life.'

'Asshole.'

Trowa stuck out his tongue. 'Am not.'

'Are too,' Quatre retorted, because he simply had to, and they both burst out laughing.

'You're a surprising sort of person,' Trowa said when they'd both stopped wheezing. 'Sometimes you act like a bratty little kid; sometimes you act like you could run the world if you decided that was what you wanted. I can't figure you out.'

Quatre wrapped both hands around his mug and batted his eyelashes. 'I know. It's all part of my charm, don't you think?'

'Oh, here we go,' Trowa raised his eyes to the ceiling. 'Do you actually flirt by instinct, Quatre?'

Quatre gave it some consideration. 'I think I probably do, yes. Don't you know how to?'

'I don't get the point of it. If I like someone, I tell them. What's the point in all that stupid playing around and teasing?'

'It's fun! And it's a good way to decide whether someone actually likes you, or whether you like them. I like knowing someone thinks I'm attractive.'

The other man snorted into his coffee. 'You know, I wouldn't have thought you'd have problems in that particular area. You don't exactly come across as insecure about your looks.'

'I'm not. Why should I be; I know just what I look like and I like it. Although I'd prefer to be a little bit taller,' he mused. 'What would you change about your appearance?'

Trowa shook his head, hair falling into his eyes. The temptation to reach out and sweep it aside was getting stronger. 'I've never thought about it. How do we always end up having these obscure conversations?'

'It's your fault,' Quatre explained patiently. 'I am quite desperately fishing for compliments from you, and you're being very slow on the uptake.'

'Oh.' Trowa's free hand tilted Quatre's chin up and those incredible green eyes stared at him. 'No, Quatre. We're not having this conversation now. Not with you in bed and naked by the looks of it.'

Quatre's eyes gleamed. 'Would you like to check?'

Trowa flicked his cheek with one finger. 'Stop that. I've told you, I'm not into all that flirty stuff.'

'Maybe I'm not flirting.'

'And maybe it's time we both went to sleep. Separately,' he added quickly.

'Right. You don't find me remotely attractive then.'

'You know damn well that I do. There; I've given you your compliment.'

'Very grudgingly, it sounded like.'

'You're such a brat.' Keeping a hold on his chin, Trowa leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. 'You're gorgeous, Winner. And you know it, so stop angling for flattery. And stop trying to seduce me, OK?'

'Why? You're the one who just kissed me.'

'We already had this conversation.' The second kiss probed just a little deeper; Trowa's tongue danced briefly over his. 'You've got this Wufei guy, remember him? And I'd rather you didn't do something you'd regret in the morning. Now, are you warm enough? I can get you another blanket.'

'Or you could just get in here and warm me yourself.'

Trowa sighed. 'A couple of hours ago, you didn't even like me.'

'I never said I liked you.' Quatre took Trowa's hand and swiped his tongue across the knuckles. 'When I'm with you I feel like all my nerves are on the outside of my body. Does that make sense?'

'Not really? I think maybe I should stop giving you alcohol around now. That sounds damn uncomfortable.'

'It is,' Quatre admitted. 'It's also damn exciting.'

'Not like with the other guy?'

'Not really. It's – easier, with him, a bit. I know he likes me. I suppose I understand him a little bit better.'

'I like you.'

'How much?'

'Enough not just to want a one night stand with you.' Trowa put his mug on the floor. 'Quatre. He sounds like he'll fit into your world. Not like me. You want someone who'll bring you to the opera, and buy you dinner in that bloody pretentious restaurant that you like. Someone you'd want your family to meet.'

'How the hell can you possibly know what I want?' Quatre demanded. He hadn't let Trowa's hand go. Turning it palm up, he pressed a kiss to the centre. The skin was very tanned, with a few small scratches. 'I'm not even sure myself.'

'Have you ever heard of the phrase _honest to a fault_?'

'Once or twice. Have you ever heard that some people actually believe in expressing their emotions? Why wouldn't I want my family to meet you?'

'I'm sure Duo's given you a few clues. You really think your parents would want their son involved with someone like me?'

'Duo's been to parties in my parents' house. They adore him.'

'Everyone adores him. It's like a law of physics or something. I'm not exactly up there on the lovable scale.'

'Well, you think you're not,' Quatre allowed. 'Or rather, you're trying very hard to convince yourself of it.'

'Is that what this is about? You're on some sort of mission to convince me there's love in the world for everyone. Dream on, Winner. I've never believed in fairytales.'

'Ack, you're about as lovable as a rabid dog, do you know that?' Quatre said crossly.'And as romantic.'

'Again with the sweet nothings?' Trowa teased. 'You're too good to me, Quatre.' He grabbed the arm Quatre had raised by the wrist, twisting it. 'Don't do that. Seriously. Don't threaten me.'

'Let me _go_!'

'Not if you're going to take a swing at me.'

'You're hurting me!'

'Sorry.' Trowa released him abruptly. 'I'm sorry, OK?'

Quatre nodded, rubbing his wrist. It had been his own fault really; pushing like that.

Trowa stood up abruptly, hair sweeping across his face and hiding the expression in his eyes. 'I've been trying to tell you, Quatre. I'm not a very nice guy.'

'That's what you want people to think, certainly. I'm not sure if it's true, though. Duo's told me some things about you. That you rescue dogs that are due to be put down and find homes for them. That you've trained two of your own and take them to visit people in hospitals and homes for the elderly. Why do you do all that if you're such a horrible person?'

'Duo talks too much.' Trowa folded his arms across his chest. Classic defence posture.

'Well, everyone knows that,' Quatre said briskly. 'To be specific, why are you suddenly trying to convince me you're no good for me?'

'Like I said, I like you.'

'Of course. And that would be why you don't want a relationship with me. That makes such sense, Trowa.'

'You don't do sarcasm very well, do you? Listen. It's complicated. I'm shit at relationships. If Duo's told you so much about me, he's probably mentioned that tiny factor. And you're his friend. When I hurt you, he'll be pissed at me. I don't want that.'

'What?' Quatre stared at him. 'You're breaking up with me for a purely hypothetical reason? That's insane! What does Duo have to do us? He wants us to get together – God, he's practically been shoving me at you!'

'Let it go,' Trowa said it softly. 'It's hardly breaking up since we were never together. It just wouldn't work.'

'Fine!' Quatre pushed himself against the headboard, crossing his arms in an exact imitation of Trowa. 'If you're so determined to do this – this anti-flirtation, I can do it too! You're not the only one who isn't perfect, you know. I'm totally spoiled; I expect to get my own way all the time and I'm an utter control freak. I'm criminally untidy, I'm never on time for anything and I constantly have to be the centre of attention. And I do not take kindly to being dumped by someone who didn't even have the decency to ask me out in the first place. So there!'

Trowa's mouth curved into what looked like a very reluctant smile. 'You left out stubborn, self-absorbed and highly demanding.'

'You seem like a moderately perceptive person. I thought you could work some things out for yourself. That's who I am, Trowa. I'm also highly intelligent, loyal and utterly devoted to my friends.'

'You left out a couple of other things. Like seriously attractive.'

'Self evident.'

'Modest.'

'Ditto.'

'Too smart for your own good,' Trowa muttered. 'Very desirable. Funny. You care about people, don't you? Duo, Treize; they've told you stuff that most people wouldn't know.'

Quatre nodded.

'I wouldn't be any good for you. Trust me on that.'

'Huh. You just broke up with me, and now you want me to trust you. No, thanks.'

'You'd be way better off with Mr. Art Historian. He'd probably write you odes comparing your eyes to cerulean summer skies or something before he screwed you.' One hand toyed with the first button on his jeans. 'Are you sure about this?'

This.

Quatre wasn't even sure what _this_ was. He'd invited someone he barely knew into his bed. He wasn't sure what Trowa expected, or what, exactly he was willing to offer. He had Wufei. Correction; he had the _possibility_ of Wufei; neither of them had made any commitments, and Wufei didn't have that deep ache of loneliness.

In the end, he didn't answer verbally; just shifted over in the small bed, making room. 'You are utterly fixated on people writing me poetry for some reason. And why do you automatically assume that I'd be the one on the bottom?'

Trowa switched off the light before undressing and then scootched down in the bed and drew Quatre beside him. It was a small bed. 'If I was stupid enough to answer that, you'd hit me for real. I don't know.'

'For the record, I happen to like being on top.'

'For the record, so do I.'

'I don't mind sharing some things.'

'I do. I don't bottom, Quatre. Not for anyone.'

'I bet you'd like it, with me.'

'No.'

'If you've never tried it, how do you know you don't like it?'

'I never said I'd never tried it.' It was scary, actually; that a voice could be that devoid of any expression, of any shading whatsoever. Such awful bleakness.

There was nothing he could say to that that wouldn't come across as trite or patronising or inane. Instead, he hitched his arm a little tighter around Trowa's waist, and rested his cheek on Trowa's chest, listening to his heart beating.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: They don't belong to me.

**Chapter 15:**

_In which Quatre and Trowa teach each other the benefits of snuggling....._

Quatre finally started to stir around dawn. Trowa didn't have curtains or blinds on any of the windows; he liked to see the sky and it wasn't like he had neighbours who could to look in.

It was probably the lightening sky that had woken the blond. He'd slept like a baby for hours.

Trowa hadn't slept much; he didn't nowadays. He'd envied the blond in his arms who'd gone out like a light, right in the middle of some conversation Trowa didn't much want to think about.

'Hey.'

'Good morning.' Quatre blinked, just once, and then his eyes opened properly.

He was so transparent; you could read every expression that flitted across his face. Like Duo. A quick moment of wondering where he was, and with whom; he probably wasn't the sort who regularly woke up in strange beds. With strange men.

Then a sweet, lovely smile for his companion. People didn't, generally, look at Trowa like that, like his presence was a gift for them.

And then that little bit of confusion that was so obviously - _did we have sex?_ - that it made Trowa laugh.

Laugh and kiss his mouth. 'We didn't. You'd remember it. I promise. How are you feeling?'

Quatre stretched, as much he could within the confines of a narrow bed, and one that was mostly occupied by a larger body. 'Ugh. Stiff.'

'Yeah. Me too.' Trowa, very deliberately stretched out to let him feel the proof of that.

Quatre managed a fairly creditable glare, given the early hour. Or no, Duo had said he was a morning person. That would be a killer; having a boyfriend who was perky first thing.

'I meant, I'm cramped.'

'Yeah. Me too.' Trowa grinned at him. 'You can't complain. You treated me like your favourite pillow all night. And you're heavier than you look. Or at least you are after eight hours.'

'Well, you should have a bigger bed,' Quatre retorted calmly. Never at a loss, was he?

'I do.' He wasn't sure if it was meant to be an invitation or not until Quatre rolled off him. Despite the cramps and the muscles that had either gone to sleep or downright died, he missed having the blond sprawled over him.

'Where is it?'

He smiled when he saw Trowa's bed. Not a bed, really, but a raised sleeping platform that took up most of his room.

'Now, this is so much better.'

'Glad it meets with your approval,' Trowa muttered. For some reason, he'd thought Quatre would be the self-conscious type, but he'd happily walked through the house naked. Then again, why would he have to be self-conscious?

He was perfect. Flawless skin, unmarked by so much as a freckle and that golden hair. Golden everywhere, with the sun on him. Underneath those prissy, pastel clothes, you could see that he was in great shape. Nothing to be remotely self-conscious about.

Trowa was the one who felt just a little uncomfortable, with those eyes studying him. Of course, he was looking at the scar. They always did, first. And Trowa had been careful to let him walk first, so Quatre hadn't seen the marks on his back yet.

Unlike most people, he didn't immediately look away. He trailed one finger up Trowa's left thigh, knee to hip and left it on his hipbone, tracing little circles.

'Was it a knife?'

'Yeah.' It hadn't actually been all that deep. But Duo had patched it up, using the most basic supplies they'd had available and it had left that livid scar.

'Well?' Trowa forced himself just to stand there, with Quatre Winner studying him almost objectively. 'What's the verdict?'

'You've got freckles. I like that. And you're lovely.' Quatre said it quite matter-of-factly, with another of those smiles. God. It felt like the sun had come out, just for you, when he did that.

'Not exactly in pristine condition.' He wasn't quite sure why he'd said that; whether he was looking for reassurance or flattery or what. But he guessed Quatre would probably get the deeper meaning; that his body, scarred and all, was pretty much a map of his past.

Quatre touched his leg again. 'I asked Duo once where he got the knife scar on his stomach.' Blue eyes lifted to green. 'He told me about it.' He bent his head and touched his lips to the ragged seam that had never quite fused together. 'He said you saved his life.'

'I think we agreed last night, Duo talks too much.'

'And you don't talk enough,' Quatre retorted, softening it with one of those melting smiles, and then lying back on the mattress. He looked good against Trowa's dark blue sheets. Very good.

'Trowa.'

'Quatre.'

'This probably sounds stupid,' he reached one hand to take Trowa's, 'but I'd really rather we didn't do anything until I talk to Wufei.'

'You said last night that you hadn't even made any definite arrangements to see each other again. I hardly think he has any kind of claim on you.'

'He hasn't. But I know he wants to. I've never cheated on anyone in my life.'

Fuck. Or, rather, not. Principles were fine, for people who could afford them, and who'd never had them tested. Trowa didn't have very many, and he didn't see the point of this particular one. Quatre had been on one date with the guy, and he was acting like he'd be betraying his husband or something.

If this Wufei guy hadn't been smart enough to grab Quatre when he had the chance, then it was his bad luck.

'A ditzy blond with principles. Imagine that.'

Quatre made a face at him. 'I like being ditzy. It's fun. And I don't think I could carry off the whole intense brooding thing anyway, could I? I'm far too cute for that.'

'You like acting ditzy because you can fool people and then let them see how smart you are,' Trowa corrected.

'Well, that too. I'm sorry. He's away for a few days but I'll talk to him when he gets back.'

Great. Now, he had this gorgeous, _naked_ guy in his bed, who was stroking his arm, very gently, from wrist to elbow, and he was expected to wait for days before anything could happen. Fuck.

Not, apparently.

'Are you sure you don't want him?'

'Oh, I do,' Quatre said at once. 'I just want to be with you more. He's amazing. Very intelligent and sophisticated and charming. Have you ever met anyone where you just totally seemed to be on the same wavelength? We were able to finish off each other's sentences, and half the time it was like having a conversation with myself, not with a person I hardly knew.'

'That sounds pretty boring.'

'It wasn't. Not at all.'

'What about the physical stuff? Let me guess, he gave you a chaste little kiss on the mouth at the end of the night?'

'It was very romantic. Very sweet.'

'Sweet, yeah. What every man wants.'

'I happen to like sweet, actually.'

'Then maybe he _is_ the one you should be with. I don't do sweet.'

Quatre flicked him a provocative little grin. 'I'm sure you could be trained.'

'Huh. I'm the one who does training for a living, remember?'

'You train _animals_!'

'Same principle. You set the boundaries, reward good behaviour with lots of praise and affection and the occasional treat.'

Quatre twinkled at him. 'The treats sound nice. What about bad behaviour?'

'I prefer to ignore it, if possible. Focus on positive reinforcement.'

'I don't like being ignored.' Oh, great, now those eminently kissable lips were pouting up at him. 'Can we snuggle?'

'You didn't want to do anything a few minutes ago.'

'Snuggling doesn't automatically mean sex!' Those big, blue eyes gazed winningly up at him. 'Please.'

Snuggle. Fabulous. What the _hell_ was he doing with this one? Oh, yeah. Duo wanted it. 'Come here, you spoilt brat.'

'That's lovely,' Quatre sighed dreamily. 'I could stay like this all day.'

'I couldn't.' He let his hands roam over that lovely, supple body, taking his own sweet time about it, and liking the way the blond moaned when he found a sensitive spot. OK, that obviously fell within the parameters of whatever he thought _snuggling_ was. He didn't object to being kissed either, or to the odd nip. Time to move this snuggling thing up a notch.

Quatre didn't complain when Trowa shifted over on top of him. Not in the least; reaching both arms up to pull him closer. So much for all that macho posturing about how he liked being a top.

Yeah, right. The cute little control freak was clearly desperate for someone to bend him over and nail his lovely ass to the floor. There'd be time for that, though. Instead, Trowa spat on one palm and curved it between Quatre's legs.

'Trowa! What are you doing?'

'Snuggling your sweet cock. I thought that was kind of obvious.'

'Oh.' It came out as a long, quavering cry, which had possibly started out as some kind of a protest, but melted into a needy, greedy moan when Trowa applied just a bit of pressure and then started to move his hand.

He was quite the passionate little thing, once he got going, his whole body arching up into Trowa's grip, and biting his shoulder. He was a screamer too, which was fine in Trowa's house, but made him wonder what Quatre's neighbours thought. It was good and just got better when he reached up to take Trowa's arousal and after a blissful minute of that, they were kissing voraciously and there was all kinds of full body contact going on; one of Quatre's hands plucking at one of his nipples, and all that warm, silky skin rubbing against him, and then that perfect, perfect feeling of their two cocks moving against each other.

The best sex Trowa had had since he couldn't remember when. And there hadn't even been any actual penetration.

And Quatre was looking up at him with the most gorgeous, replete, happy smile, and Trowa's cum on his skin, and a couple of marks on his neck where Trowa had sucked a little bit too enthusiastically.

'Now, you're going to have to change the sheets.'

'That's it?' Trowa demanded, not quite sure whether he was amused or angry. It wouldn't exactly have killed Quatre to be a bit more forthcoming. 'That's all I get? Do the fucking laundry.'

'Oh, Trowa. You're such an idiot.' He gave a dreamy, drowsy sigh and immediately fell asleep.

Charming.

Trowa didn't change the sheets; it wouldn't kill Quatre to lie in a wet spot. It wasn't like he'd drown or catch pneumonia or something. By the time he'd let the animals out, and fed them, and put the kettle on, he was grinning. It was just Quatre; _he_ was being the needy one, looking for reassurance, and it had been pretty damn obvious that the blond had enjoyed himself.

Anyway, he couldn't have stayed angry once he saw Quatre sprawled in his bed. It was going to be pretty damn hard to stay angry with Quatre, period.

He set the tray on the floor and shook the blond gently.

'Hey. Can you wake up? I've got breakfast.'

Quatre turned over. 'Hmmm?'

'Breakfast. You know, food you eat in the morning. Hot beverage.'

'Oh, goody! I'm starving!' Quatre chirped, sitting up and propping pillows behind him, but not acting like it was anyway unusual for him to get breakfast in bed. Trowa didn't think he'd ever done it for anyone before; Duo, maybe, if he'd been sick or injured.

He took a sip from the mug Trowa handed him, and then smiled. 'How did you know my favourite tea?'

'Duo told me.' Because he'd asked, obviously.

'That's so sweet.' Quatre took another sip, and then reached for the stack of buttered toast. 'Were you expecting I'd stay the night then?'

'They said in the shop that I could get a refund if the package wasn't opened.' Trowa shrugged, grabbing a piece of toast before the blond could eat it all. 'I don't know how you drink that stuff. It smells like silage.'

Quatre's dainty little nose gave a very un-dainty sniff. 'I have no idea what silage smells like, I'm glad to say. But this is delicious, and very healthy. For a vegetarian, you don't take very good of what you eat.'

'I'm a vegetarian because I don't like eating dead animals.'

'Protein is important,' Quatre argued back. God, he could never just let something go, could he? It was all the Gospel according to Quatre Winner. Trowa would probably end up strangling him at some point.

They were both silent for a few minutes, Quatre devoting himself to his food, and Trowa watching him.

'What would you like to do now?' OK, he hadn't _meant_ to ask that. He'd meant to play it cool and let Quatre do the running. But Quatre was obviously the one in control, lounging in Trowa's bed like he belonged there, like he owned the damn place.

The weird thing was, it didn't feel awkward. Normally, he couldn't wait to get rid of guys the next morning; he had a whole box of excuses neatly stored in his head. Letting Kurt move in, even temporarily, had been a huge mistake, and only reinforced the feeling that he was better off alone.

He didn't want Quatre to leave.

'I'd love to have a shower actually.' The naked, lovely blond in his bed wrinkled his nose fastidiously. 'Next time, maybe you'd like to stay the night with me? I have a huge corner bathtub.'

_Next time._

Trowa supposed that it was official, then. The two of them. Quatre seemed to think so anyway.

'I bet you like taking long bubble baths, right? With all sorts of scented lotions and stuff? And candles?'

'Oh, yes.' Quatre's eyes narrowed at him. 'You have homemade tofu in your fridge, and a bumper bag of pink marshmallows. And chocolate milk in little cartons with cartoon characters on them. You don't get to take jabs at me for not being manly, Barton.'

'Sorry, sorry.' Trowa held his hands up grinning. 'Point taken. So you want a shower. Do you have stuff to do today or can you stay for a bit?'

'Are you going to be nice to me?' Quatre gave him one of those coy little glances, blue eyes glinting under his lashes.

'Maybe. You'll have to stay if you want to find out.'

'Hmm. I'm _supposed_ to be having lunch with my parents.' For one God-awful moment, he thought Quatre would invite him along to meet them. 'But I could cancel. If I got a better offer.'

'It's a lovely day out. We could take the horses and go for a ride. Bring something to eat and stay out for a few hours. I can show you a couple of places where herons are nesting. How would that be?'

'It sounds wonderful.' He sounded pretty sincere about that. 'I'm looking after Laragh tonight so I do have to be at the gallery at five to pick up Duo's keys. I'm free until then, though.'

'Cool.' Trowa took the empty plate away, feeling oddly happy. He'd known about the dog-sitting, actually. It had one of Duo's less subtle – assuming that subtlety could be graded in a non-existent situation – attempts to get them together; asking them seperately to look after Laragh.

Quatre was a smart guy, so he'd presumably copped on as well, which presumably meant that he'd wanted to spend that time with Trowa.

Right.

He was grinning as he slid back into the bed beside Quatre. So he rated above a luncheon date with the parents, but below a promise to dog-sit. Well, fair enough.

And he still had Quatre to himself for most of the day.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I don't own the GW characters. Which is sad.**

Note: Many thanks to KS for editing and to everyone who is reading.

**Chapter 16:**

_In which Treize is abducted and taken on a mystery tour….._

Duo closed the gallery door on their last customers, an elderly couple who had obviously wanted to take him home with them, and looked around with a broad grin on his face. 'Nice way to end the day, huh? Two sales. For a while there, I half thought they were going to offer to buy me as well.'

'Maybe I should put a 'Not for Sale' sticker on you. Just in case people start getting ideas.'

Duo took his hand and placed it very deliberately on his rear. 'I think this should work as a fairly effective symbol of ownership, don't you?'

'Ah, so I spend the rest of my life with my hand on your delightful ass? I like that.'

'I kind of like it too. D'you think we can shut up a few minutes early tonight?'

'Very definitely, yes.'

Duo held one of his hands as Treize keyed in the security alarm with the other. It had been a busy day – Sundays usually were – with very little opportunity to be affectionate.

'Don't want any nasty sneak thieves breaking in, now do we?' he teased.

'Certainly not.' Treize bent down and gave him a quick kiss. 'They cause all sorts of trouble, people like that.'

'That sort of sounds like a challenge.'

'Perhaps.' Treize reached into his pocket, searching for the car keys and Duo darted in front of him, tossing them into the air once and then opening the door.

'I thought I'd drive tonight.'

'If you like.' That was rather unexpected; they didn't usually drive each other's cars unless one of them had been drinking. It certainly wasn't a problem though; he could relax and watch Duo's hands on the wheel, and imagine all sorts of delicious things for those fingers to do when they got home.

Treize lifted an eyebrow as Duo drove past their usual turning. 'Are we taking the long way home?'

Duo's mouth curved. 'Not going home. Not tonight. I'm sort of abducting you.'

'Are you indeed?' Very intriguing. 'Where are we going?'

'Mystery tour. You'll see.'

'Duo. Where are we going?' He laid one hand on Duo's leg, squeezing gently, and then let his fingers wander up Duo's thigh.

'Not when I'm driving,' Duo gasped, taking one hand off the wheel to stop him. 'It's a secret, OK?'

'You can't keep secrets, sweetheart. And I hate surprises.'

'Yeah, good point.' Duo relented. 'I thought it would be nice for the two of us to get away for the night. You know that little hotel we went to before Christmas; the one beside the river? I booked us in there. Happy now?'

'Deliriously so.' This time, Duo let the hand stay on his knee. 'How ever did you get reservations? They're always booked up months in advance.'

Duo's mouth curved into that adorably mischievous smile of his. 'About that. I had to do some serious 'phone flirting with the manager. And sort of imply that we're into threesomes. We'll need to double lock our bedroom door tonight. And maybe put a chair or something under the handle.'

'Two chairs,' Treize decided. 'I have no intention of sharing you with anyone.'

'I have no intention of being shared.' That smile widened; his eyes, when he took them off the road for a second, were brimming with laughter. 'So, _have_ you ever done the threesome thing, given your vast experience?'

'Not all that vast.'

'Vast compared to mine.'

'Which isn't exactly saying a great deal, my love.'

Duo stuck out his tongue. 'I was saving myself, OK?'

'I know.' Treize said it softly. It was arrogant and egotistical, no doubt, but he did love the fact that no one else had ever possessed Duo. His Duo. 'And to answer your question, no, I haven't. I prefer to concentrate on one person. Ideally your beautiful self.'

'Excellent answer.'

'I aim to please. Duo, who's looking after Laragh?'

'Quat. He called by while you were talking to those Germans in the back room. All happy with himself since he and Tro got together.'

'When exactly did that happen?'

'Last night. Or this morning. Or possibly this afternoon. Quat was on his way home to feed the devil-cat before going out to Romfeller. And he was lit up like a firework, so don't start on how they're not right for each other.'

'Am I permitted to think it?' Treize asked dryly. He couldn't see those two together; not in a million years. 'Quatre's love life seems to be getting somewhat complicated. When I met him yesterday, he was convinced that Wufei was his soulmate. And he does seem to be rather more suitable.'

'Yeah, maybe if Quat lived in the eighteenth century and wanted an arranged marriage,' Duo muttered. 'Since he doesn't, Tro is way better for him than freaking Chang.'

'Wufei? What's wrong with him? I thought you liked him.'

'He's an asshole. He thinks I'm some bimbo and that my car is flashy.'

'Well, it is, just a little.' Treize smiled; of course it was. It was why he'd chosen it. 'Did he actually say those things to your face? When?'

'When he was in the gallery on Friday. I told you; he came in with that weird Heero Yuy guy. I'll tell you something else; he knows way too much about us and the gallery. Knew all about the burglary and stuff.'

'It's hardly a secret, love.'

Duo sniffed. 'You didn't hear them. Yuy was asking questions and Chang sounded way too knowledgeable. It was quiet for an hour at lunchtime, while you were out, so I did a little bit of research and you know what? The guy's a fucking cop. Seriously.'

'I don't think so. He works at the gallery.'

'Yeah, that's his official job, but he's also seconded to that new Art Crimes Division as an advisor.'

'That doesn't mean he actually has anything to do with actual police-work. Just that he's called in when they need specialist advice.'

Duo shook his head. 'No. I thought that was what it meant, too, and I did a bit of digging around. He's been involved in some investigations. He's good, Treize. Cracked two of the cases himself. And he's been reading files on the gallery. And you. Pulled up your old military service records and everything. He's got a pretty high security clearance, looks like. I'm just the _trophy boyfriend_, though, so he hasn't bothered looking at anything about me.'

'Good. Now, how did you find all that out?'

'This cool thing called the Internet.' Duo looked, very fixedly, at the road ahead. 'You may have heard of it. You can get all sorts of stuff if you dig around a bit.'

'Duo! You're not supposed to hack into police files. What if someone can trace you?'

Duo laughed. 'You're super cute when you worry, you know that? No one's going to trace me. I'm good at this stuff. Too good for some dumb cops to catch. Relax, babe. He doesn't _know_ anything. But I'd still prefer Quatre not to get involved with him.'

'I suppose you're right.' So Quatre was going to be sacrificed to Trowa. Well, that wouldn't last, no matter how much Duo wanted it.

Duo gave his braid a flick. 'Quatre's a big boy; he can sort out his own love life. So don't start on him; he's already feeling guilty about Wufei, for God's sake. I mean, they had one date; it's not like there was any commitment.'

'Does Trowa feel the same way about him?' Treize tried to keep his voice neutral. It was the First Commandment according to Duo Maxwell; thou shalt not criticise Trowa Barton in any way.

'You know Tro; he's not big into talking about emotions,' Duo said after a minute's pause. Treize made a determined effort not to comment on the understatement of the millenium. 'He needs someone like Quat. And Quat was all blissed out, so maybe he used his heeby jeeby thing to pick up on how Trowa felt.'

'He doesn't like you calling it that,' Treize pointed out. 'And you know that isn't how it works for him.'

'Yeah, yeah. I know.' Duo shifted slightly in his seat; he tried to hide it, but he was never very comfortable discussing Quatre's….idiosyncrasy. 'Sorry. I wanted for this to be a really nice evening. Not to argue with you.'

'No more arguing,' Treize agreed at once, resolving to call Quatre as soon as possible. 'It's a lovely idea. How did you think of it?'

'Listening to Chang and Yuy, actually. Chang was all fired-up about this special date he was fixing up for a guy he was into. 'Course, I didn't know then that he meant Quat. Anyway, I thought it might be nice for us to do something a bit different. You know? Just because we're all engaged doesn't mean we have to act like some old married couple.'

'Positively not.' Treize tipped his head back against the seat and smiled at the vision of them as an old married couple. It was very appealing, the thought of spending so many years with his love.

The Riverside Hotel looked very different on a bright April day than it had in December. The ancient coaching inn was smothered in honeysuckle and jasmine, a few fronds of which had curled through the open window of their room.

'They've given us the same bedroom.' Treize tipped the porter and closed the door firmly.

'I asked for it.' Moving across the room, Duo very deliberately ran one finger up the brass bedstead. 'Same bed; guess they managed to fix it. I packed a couple of those nice silky scarves. Just in case you fancied a repeat performance of the last time.'

'Very much,' Treize said softly. 'It might be nice to have an appetiser before dinner, don't you think?'

'I have something planned first. We're going on the river for an hour while there's still some daylight.'

'Are we indeed?' Treize pulled Duo into his arms and traced the rim of his ear with his tongue. 'Are you quite certain about that?'

'Yeah.' Duo sounded gratifyingly uncertain. 'Totally. Sort of. _Fuck_, Treize!' He squirmed deliciously under a sensual onslaught of lips and tongue and a sharp sting of teeth. '_Please_.'

'Of course, darling. You're so pretty when you beg, do you know that?' Treize's mouth left his earlobe, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down his neck and one hand slipped under the waistband of his jeans.

'Treize, stop. OK?' He caught the wandering hand and curled his fingers about it. 'There's something I really, really want us to do. Outside. It won't take long.'

'Very well.' Treize let him go, very reluctantly, wondering what exactly he had planned.

Duo's hand, when he captured it on their way out, was shaking just a little.

'Is something the matter?'

'No. Nothing like that. I just have this all planned out, and I didn't really take into account that you might jump me and it's going to be dark in a couple of hours.'

'Silly. I'm always going to jump you, given the slightest opportunity. And I intend to do it again, the moment we get back to our room.'

'Glad to hear it.'

Treize raised an eyebrow as they walked out of the hotel garden. The riverbank was uncomfortably crowded on a warm spring evening; picnicking families and children throwing balls for over-excited dogs and squabbling and eating ice-creams. It was hardly a most perfect setting for a romantic tryst.

Duo caught his expression and grinned. 'It's OK. Told you I had a plan. Follow me. There's a little jetty just across here.'

'Your carriage awaits, my lord.' Duo grinned at him, gesturing to the first boat, already provided with rugs and cushions and a large cooler bag.

'I didn't know you could row.'

'Can't.' Duo stepped carefully around the bag. 'Sorry; I know it should be one of those wicker hampers, but they don't keep stuff chilled. As for the rowing thing, I'm about to learn. Seriously, how hard can it be to move two wooden sticks through the water?'

'It's not as easy as you think.'

'I'll get the hang of it in a second. Hold on.' Duo bumped them against the jetty, swung in a circle and bumped into the riverbank, and then collided with a boat occupied by four giggling girls, who were trying to moor.

'Hold the oars a little further down, love,' Treize instructed. 'That's perfect. Right, you need to find a rhythm that you move them both at the same time. Like that. Good. Now, don't dip them too deep in the water, and not so fast. Try to make long, smooth strokes.'

'Find a rhythm, huh?' Duo winked at him. 'Smooth strokes, not too deep. Sounds like you could be talking about something else, Mr. Khushrenada.'

'Only to someone with an incredibly perverted mind.'

'Sounds like me,' Duo agreed cheerfully. 'It's like Venice, isn't it? Us in the gondola?'

'Traumatising that unfortunate gondolier.'

Duo snickered. 'Yeah. Poor guy. Still you did give him a whacking great tip; he's probably recovered by now. You can hire guys here to do the rowing for you, but I thought it would be nicer to be just us.'

'It is,' Treize said sincerely. 'Where are we going?'

'You'll see. Can you shut up for a minute? Let me concentrate on my long, smooth strokes, OK?'

'OK.'

Duo swung them, fairly smoothly, around a bend in the river, and they abruptly had the world to themselves. A perfect, sun-splashed green-gold afternoon; with no sounds but birdsong and the gentle plash of water against the boat, and Duo's occasional curse when he fumbled the oars.

The sun was gilding his hair; picking up on the strands on red, and sparkled on the ring on his left finger.

'Here we go.' He pulled them toward the riverbank, aiming for the shelter of a huge willow tree. 'Remember this place? We walked this way when we stayed here in December, didn't we?'

Treize leaned out to secure the little boat against one exposed root, and then settled back on the cushions. 'Certainly, I remember. It's beautiful.'

'Yeah.' Duo gave him a slightly nervous smile. 'OK, here's the thing. The night you asked me about the whole getting engaged stuff, I know you wanted it to be all perfect and romantic and everything and I freaked out and messed it all up for you.'

'No, you didn't.' He leaned over and kissed Duo lightly on the mouth. 'You said yes. That's the only thing that counts.'

'Yeah. But still…we had a fight in there somewhere, and I'd really like us to have a memory that didn't involve me threatening walk out on you, and you getting all panicky. You know?'

Treize nodded, not entirely sure where all of this was actually going.

'So, um, here you go.' He dug into his pocket and took out a small box. 'This is for you and I probably should get on my knees or something but you're not supposed to move around in a boat, and I'm no good at all the flowery speeches, but I love you to bits, more than anything in my whole life, and I want to be with you for always, and I'd really like for you to wear this.'

It was a sapphire. A perfect square-cut gem on a thin band of gold.

'I think you're supposed to put it on my finger for me.' His voice wasn't, entirely, steady.

'Do you like it?' Duo's hand wasn't entirely steady either.

'I love it. And I will love wearing it. For always, like you said.'

'Always,' Duo echoed softly, reaching into the cooler bag and producing a bottle of champagne and two crystal flutes. 'I know you don't really like champagne, but it's traditional, so too bad.' He took a long swallow, then sealed his mouth over Treize's.

'I could to like it, if you keep serving it like that,' Treize said huskily. 'I could get to like it very much.'

'Yeah. This is so sappy. I love it!'

'It was the most perfect idea.' It was, too. Just the two of them with the sun-dappled river, and the first streaks of sunset painting the sky, and Duo's skin washed a pale, luscious green under the willow tree. 'Thank you. And for the ring. You know, we're going to have to start talking about where to go for the honeymoon.'

'Quat's been sending me millions of emails with all these honeymoon destinations he's picked out for us.'

'Hmmm. I'm not sure if I want Quatre to make that decision for us.'

'Yeah. Some of them were pretty nice, though. You know; resorts on their own private islands and villas and all that. Even a palace in Venice.'

'We'll go anywhere you like. Did any of them appeal?'

'I already know where I want to go.' He managed to sound definite and uncertain at the same time. 'D'you have any special place you'd prefer?'

'I want to be with you,' Treize stroked the strands of hair off his forehead. 'That's all. The destination's not important.'

Duo's lashes fluttered closed for a second, and then opened. 'What I'd really like would be for us to go up to the hunting lodge. Can we do that?'

'Whatever you like,' Treize assured him. 'If you're quite sure you wouldn't rather go somewhere a little more exotic.'

'I'm totally sure,' Duo said quickly. 'I love that place, you know.' He rolled over, resting his chin on Treize's thigh and looked up at him. 'It's special. I know we had sex the first night in the gallery, but the lodge was where we first really got to know each other.'

'It was.'

'Remember that drive up?'

Treize nodded. 'Of course.' He always would. It had been late enough; early in the morning, really, for them to have the road to themselves, to be the only two people in the universe. There had been something unearthly about the whole experience. He'd wanted, very badly, to stop living that night, and then there had been Duo and it had all changed.

They'd stayed at the lodge for a week, before going back to face reality.

'That's a wonderful idea, love.'

'Cool. Quat's going to be bummed that we're not going on a cruise or something. He probably wants to come with us.'

Treize laughed; Quatre probably would, too. 'Well, he can't. Not this time.'

'No.' Duo curled against him, opening his mouth for his lover's kiss. 'Just us.'

'Just us.'

It was just them after that; whispers and sighs and soft kisses and the gentle lap of water against the boat, and bird calls. The rustle of clothing loosened and then discarded, and the slide of skin against skin, flesh into flesh. Then Duo's sudden high cry as he came until Treize sealed his mouth with a kiss.

'I absolutely hate to say this,' Treize said eventually, but we should head back before it gets too dark.'

'I guess.' Duo groped for the oars with one hand, tugging up his jeans with the other. 'A bath might be nice right now or…oh, shit! One of the oars just fell in.'

'Well, don't fall in after it. Do you need a hand?'

'I always need your hands.' Duo turned his head to give a quick wink and then leaned over the side again. 'No, I got it. oops, no. I think it's stuck in mud or something, heh, stuck in the mud, here it comes and OWWWW!'

The oar, dragged suddenly on board caught Duo a hefty whack against one side of his face.

Treize almost upset the boat, getting to his side.

'Duo! Are you all right? Did it hurt you?'

'Yeah, it damn well did.' Duo touched one hand to his cheek and winced. 'Hurts like hell. My own stupid fault; I wasn't thinking of where it would end up.'

'You're going to have a lovely black eye.' Treize tilted his chin up. 'It's not too bad. We'll put some ice on it when we get back to the hotel. Or would you rather go home?'

'NO way! I've planned this perfect evening and it's not going to get messed up because I was a clumsy idiot.' He managed a smile. 'My face might be out of bounds tonight but the rest of me's still in perfect working order.'


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: the Gundam Wing characters do not belong to me; I make no monetary profit from doing this.

Many thanks to KS for editing, and to everyone who has been kind enough to leave reviews.

**Chapter 17:**

_In which Heero embarks on an art appreciation course…._

By eleven o'clock on Tuesday morning, Duo was sorry he hadn't just stayed in bed, which was pretty much how he'd spent the last twenty four hours anyway. They'd hung around the hotel for a few hours on Monday morning, ordered breakfast in bed, and gone for a short walk before heading back home. Back to their own bed, naturally, after they'd taken Laragh for a run on the beach.

It would have been nice to do more of the same; Tuesdays were always pretty dead at the gallery, and Lu could have handled things, except that Treize had already made arrangements to view some paintings at an executor's sale, and there wasn't much point staying in bed without him. Well, maybe to get some actual sleep for once.

Still, Treize should be back after lunch, and it shouldn't be too hard to entice him home early. The fact that Duo had given himself a black eye in the midst of a stunningly romantic gesture was making Treize even more acquiescent than usual to anything that his lover suggested.

After smiling at the first customer of the day, who'd suddenly remembered an urgent appointment elsewhere, Duo had accepted that his face just wasn't acceptable for public consumption and hidden himself away in the office, leaving Lu to deal with the few morning customers.

He'd just finished reassuring her that no, his face didn't hurt and no, he didn't need to see a doctor, when Quat popped in, presumably to find out how Treize had liked his ring and gush about Trowa. He took one look at Duo's face – admittedly hideous, with its mottled bruises and his left eye all puffed up – and almost burst into tears.

'Oh, Duo! You poor thing! Does it hurt?'

'Only when people reach out and poke me!' Duo snapped. It was bad enough to have Treize mooning over him, he didn't need Quatre getting it on the act.

'I'm so sorry. Oh, it looks awful!'

'Yeah, I know. What happened to you last night? You were supposed to call me.'

'Was I?' Quatre asked airily. His face had assumed his best 'butter wouldn't melt in my mouth' look, which meant that there was something up.

'Yes. About your big break up with Chang.'

'Oh. That.' The blond's tone whooshed from airy to breezy. 'It was fine.'

'Fine how?' Duo persisted. 'Fine; like he just accepted it and walked away out of your life forever?'

Quatre shook his head. 'He was wonderful, Duo. He said that of course it was my decision and he really hoped we could still be friends.'

'Friends!' Duo snorted. 'That's a good one. You're not friends; come on, you've only met him a couple of times. He's just trying to weasel his way into your pants. I hope you told him where to get off.'

'Not exactly.' Quatre fiddled with an imaginary loose thread on his shirt. 'We had dinner together. Don't look at me like that! Trowa was busy last night, and neither Wufei nor I had eaten, so it made sense.'

'You're nuts,' Duo said flatly, and then Lu poked her head around the office door.

'Duo? I've got a Mr. Heero Yuy here to see you. Are you busy or have you got a few minutes?'

'OK. Can you get him to come in here?'

The habitual glare on Heero's face got even more pronounced when he walked through the doorway. Crossing the room in a couple of long strides, he took Duo's chin in one hand and tilted his face to the light.

'What the hell happened to you?'

Duo jerked free; asshole. Only Treize got to touch him like that. 'Long story, involving a rowing boat, an oar that got stuck in some mud, and me being a clumsy idiot. No biggie.'

'I see.' Heero shot him one of those unreadable glances. 'Are you…. clumsy on a regular basis?'

'What?' God, the guy was nuts. One of those IT geniuses who hadn't a freaking clue how to interact in the real world. Duo retreated behind the desk and sat down. 'No. I'm not, actually. This is my friend Quatre Winner. Quat, this is Heero. The one who's engaged to your sister's friend.'

'Oh, you're Heero!' Quatre bounced forward to shake hands, in his most gushy mood. 'It's so wonderful to meet you finally. Congratulations. My sister Amelie saw Relena at the weekend and I hear she's utterly thrilled about the painting you got her.'

Heero, without being asked, sat down, looking ever-so-slightly bemused by Quatre. Most people did, on first acquaintance.

'What are you doing back in Sanque? I thought you'd gone back to Japan.'

'I did. I had to attend a meeting in Kyoto. I flew back this morning.'

Duo shook his head. 'Shit. Aren't you jetlagged or something? Why're you back here so soon?'

'I'm setting up my first European subsidiary in Sanque. There's a lot of work involved.'

'Oh, yeah. I know about that.' He'd done a little research on Mr. Heero Yuy. 'I meant, what are you doing in the gallery? Did your fiancée not like the painting?'

'She did, yes. I wanted to ask your advice on something.'

'OK.' Duo sat back in his chair – Treize's chair – and crossed his legs. 'Shoot.'

'I've been told it's a tradition in this country for a girl to have a portrait painted after she becomes engaged.'

'Is it?' Duo shrugged. 'I never heard about that.' Treize would probably want one done, if it was a tradition though. Or maybe it was just for girls.

'I think it's a lovely custom!' Quatre enthused. 'My sisters all had it done before their marriages.'

Heero nodded. 'It's rather archaic, I believe. Relena's grandfather mentioned it to me. I'd like to have a painting done as a surprise, and give it to her at our engagement party, but I don't know any artists.'

'Oh, that's so romantic,' Quatre breathed. Duo rolled his eyes at the ceiling. God, hopefully Trowa would knock some of that mushiness out of him.

I did try doing some research on the internet, but I don't know anything about this sort of thing and I thought perhaps you could advise me?'

'Me, right. Instead of your friend who actually works as an art historian?' _When he's not moonlighting for the cops…_

Heero didn't exactly blush or anything, but he did look a little self-conscious. 'He specialises in oriental art. He doesn't know much about modern painters.'

'Well, of course, you must have Zechs Merquise,' Quatre, curse his meddlesome, well-meaning little heart, chipped in at once. 'Have you heard of him, Heero? He's probably one of the top artists in Sanque and he's painted a couple of my sisters. And I happen to know Relena loves his work.'

'I've never heard of him.' Those blue eyes swivelled around in Duo's direction. 'Do you have any of his paintings here?'

'Not right now. He has a couple of works in the National Portrait Gallery; you could check them out. Or no, you can't today. It's closed on Tuesdays. You can check it out tomorrow.'

'I won't be here. I have a meeting in London this evening.'

'I can show you some of his stuff on line if you want,' Duo offered. 'He's very good.'

'I'd prefer to see an actual painting.'

'_I_ know! Why don't you show him your portrait?' Bloody Quatre was glowing like he'd just discovered world peace. Shit. He could never resist sticking that cute little nose into things; the guy was probably convinced the sun wouldn't be able to rise in the morning without his help.

'Or you could take him home and show him yours?' Duo shot back.

'Oh, no! That's not all the sort of thing Heero would want. I'm sure he wants something romantic and lyrical and your portrait would be ideal. You could take Heero out to Romfeller now, couldn't you?'

'No, he just said he's rushing off to London,' Duo muttered, glaring at his officious friend. He didn't even like Yuy; no way was he taking him home to see a painting that was highly personal for him and Treize. God, and Quatre was supposed to be a bloody empath!

'My flight isn't until this evening.'

'Perfect!' Quatre smiled radiantly at them both. 'It's about a thirty minute drive, Heero. You'll have plenty of time.'

'I can't leave the gallery,' Duo protested, a last ditch attempt to get out of this insanity.

'Oh, nonsense. Lucrezia's here and it's not as if you can serve customers looking that.' Quatre trilled with laughter. 'Heero, it was lovely to meet you. I'm sure you'll adore the painting.'

Once the blond whirlwind had shimmered his way out, Heero gave him a direct look.

'It's all right. If the idea of inviting me into your home makes you uncomfortable, I quite understand. After all, you hardly know me. I'm sure I can find another artist.'

Duo looked down at his watch, playing for time. The idea of this strange guy coming into their house did make him uncomfortable, but he wasn't about to admit it.

Zechs would just adore him; he'd have orgasms over Heero's stunning bone structure alone. It wasn't like Zechsy was exactly strapped for cash, but he probably wouldn't turn down this sort of commission. The Peacecrafts were practically royalty, and Heero would presumably pay pretty much anything. Plus Quat wouldn't leave this alone; he'd want to know whether Heero had liked the picture and it was easier in the long run just to go along with it all.

'It's OK. I'm supposed to be meeting Treize for lunch, but I should have time to drive you out there if we leave now.'

'My driver's waiting outside if you'd rather come with us,' Heero offered.

'That black limo that looks like a hearse? No, thanks. You can follow me and I'll see you at the house. If you lose me, it's the last house on the coast road. You can't miss it; look for big gates with roses on them.'

Duo lost the black car after two minutes, more or less accidentally. Hell. He didn't want this guy coming home with him; he really didn't want him seeing the portrait. He was going to sit Quatre down and have a little talk with him about boundaries. And boyfriends, come to think of it. Not that Quat was the sort to cheat or anything, but he was ridiculously innocent about lots of things.

Trowa always said that Romfeller ideally needed a cloud of bats circling around it to complete the Gothic effect. Trowa hated the place; in fairness, he'd have hated wherever it was that Treize lived. Duo loved it though; had loved it from the very first minute Treize had driven them around the last curve in the driveway and he'd got his first sight of this ancient, imposing mansion.

_Home._

And he knew it was stupid, but he'd felt from the start that the house liked him too, and approved of him being with Treize. Stupid.

Laragh was lying by the front door, stretched out in a patch of sunlight, but leaped to her feet when she saw the little blue car. By the time Duo had parked beside their housekeeper Joanna's bubble-gum-pink Mini, and fended off the excesses of canine adoration, Joanna herself had come down the front steps.

'Duo! Are you feeling all right? Should you have driven home by yourself? I could have come and collected you. Mr. Treize will be furious that you drove home alone if you're not feeling well.'

Duo rolled his eyes. Jo had been Treize's nanny, back in the day, and still tried to mother people at the drop of a hat. 'I'm fine. I have a black eye and a little bit of bruising. I'm not an invalid! I'm only back for an hour or so; one of the gallery customers wants to see Zechs' painting. Here he is, now. Do you think we could get some coffee in a few minutes? Maybe on the terrace since it's such a nice day?'

Duo shivered slightly as the big black car swung into the driveway; he hated those cars. Reminders of death. He'd never drive a car like that. Maybe black meant something different in Japan.

'What an amazing house. How old is it?' Yuy stood back, studying it.

'The main building goes back to the 16th century, but there's a watch tower behind that's dated to the 1100s. We've got records in the library going back for centuries. Anyway, come on in.'

After the bright sunlight outside, the wood-panelled hall was dark, echoing to their footballs and the pad of Laragh's paws. Duo couldn't help grinning at Heero's expression as he glanced around, taking in the suits of armour at the foot of the staircase, and the few pieces of furniture that were solid enough to be dog-proof.

'It's not usually this …. austere . Laragh sleeps down here, when she can't sneak into our bedroom, so we're trying to dog-proof it. We've had to take up all the rugs and tapestries, and put away anything that's remotely breakable.' He gestured to Heero. 'It's just in here, Mr. Yuy.'

'Please. Heero is fine.'

'Right.' Oh, they were supposed to be on first name terms all of a sudden, were they? No, thanks. Duo resolved to stick with the more formal address, and keep a professional distance.

Then they were inside the library and there were no more words.

It was one of the coolest rooms in the universe, in Duo's opinion. Shelved and panelled in Sanque Red Oak, the bookcases soared to the ceiling, with a couple of portable ladders and even a gallery running around three sides of the room. There was a fireplace big enough to roast whole oxen, if you ever wanted to do such a thing, and the Khushrenada roses were carved into every possible surface.

The painting hung in the centre of one wall; Treize had removed an ancient tapestry to make room.

It was always kind of interesting to see how people reacted. Quatre, who thought they had the most romantic, fairy-tale relationship ever, adored it.

Trowa had taken one look at the thing, and walked straight out of the house. They'd had their worst fight ever the next day. Back then, Duo had felt like nothing so much as a meaty, juicy bone being fought over by two alpha wolves, but that had been particularly bad. They hadn't spoken for weeks afterward.

If you just glanced at the painting, you saw a slim young man standing on a rose-swathed balcony. The balcony outside the bedroom that, back then, had still been _Treize's_, rather than _theirs_.

The roses around him were pink; the variety developed by Treize's great-grandmother and called _Honour_.

It was a beautifully executed oil painting in glowing jewel colours.

In his right hand, Duo was holding a red rosebud. If you looked very closely, you could see his knuckles were clenched around the stem, but you couldn't tell whether the little splashes of crimson falling from his hand were petals, or drops of blood.

It was all symbolism, really; flowers and thorns.

He didn't always like the picture; there'd been a few times, when he and Treize were fighting over something, or Treize was trying to be even more controlling or protective than usual, that he totally got why Tro hated it.

He didn't look like he belonged. In the painting of this ancient house, with its pale-honey-coloured walls that had stood for centuries, Duo Maxwell didn't remotely belong. He was wearing a khaki military surplus jacket that he'd picked up in a thrift shop, that was probably still at the back of a drawer somewhere, and a ratty old T-shirt underneath.

He was leaning over the balcony, like he was trying to see something in the distance, or to escape.

In a couple of his darkest moods, he'd seen the roses almost as restraints, creeping closer to bind him in place. For such lovely flowers, roses got an awfully bad press in all the fairy tales.

Zechs was too fucking smart.

All those tiny details that an outsider would never notice. What Duo was wearing; a kick in the teeth to Treize's past. The military past that he'd tried so hard to forget and that had partly driven him to be in the gallery that night in the first place. Those beautiful, opulent, sunlit roses making a halo around Duo's body and the black, gaping doorway behind it to the bedroom.

Duo had never noticed it before, but his left hand was out of sight; the hand that now bore Treize's ring. With Zechs, it could well have been deliberate. After all, it did save him having to paint it in now.

Heero shifted a little beside him; damn, he'd almost forgotten the guy was there.

'Is that really how you feel?'

Damn. He got it. Another one who too smart for his own good.

'We'd only been together for a couple of months when it was painted,' Duo said shortly. They hadn't commissioned it or anything. Zechs had been out of the country for the first month they'd been living together. He'd come to dinner the first night he'd been back in Sanque and delivered the painting a few weeks later.

They'd been together for a couple of months that had been terrifying and amazing and sheer bliss and utterly fucking vertiginous, as he and Treize had started to build a life together. Treize had been petrified that Duo was going to bolt at any minute, and Duo had been convinced that Treize would toss him out with the faded roses from one of his antique crystal vases the moment he found out that Duo wasn't the flawless treasure he apparently believed him to be.

It hadn't happened. Oh, Treize knew he wasn't perfect any more, but it didn't, miraculously, seem to matter, and Duo had run off a couple of times, but he'd always come back. Two years on, they were still together.

Despite everything; despite a painting that had made Treize fucking cry the first time he'd seen it and then ask the exact same question that Heero Yuy had.

They'd left the painting propped against the wall in the drawing room that first night, and they'd stayed up talking. Treize, _Treize_, had unbelievably needed reassurance. At some point that night, they'd stopped dancing around each other. Duo had admitted that _yes_, Treize was too damn dominant and smothering and possessive sometimes, and Treize had told him just how it felt for him when they had an argument, or he even made a comment that Duo didn't like, and Duo straightaway took off. Straight back to Trowa, naturally.

Later, just before dawn, after they were worn out with talking and sex and Duo's throat was raw from crying, because it was the first time he'd told Treize so much stuff about his past, Treize had pulled off the rug he'd thrown over the painting, because he hadn't wanted to look at it any more, and together they'd picked out the positive things.

Quatre had told him once, late at night when they'd stayed up to watch a movie and drank a fair bit of wine, that he'd only ever been able to see the good parts.

Duo was standing in sunlight. Granted, he was wearing an expression of Mona Lisa inscrutability, but one corner of his mouth was just a little bit curved. He'd seen himself in the mirror like that, after particularly amazing sex, or after Treize had been more than usually sappy. And he was looking at the rose in his hand like he held something terribly precious.

You didn't need to have a degree in Art or literature to figure out what the single red rose – Treize's favourite colour - was meant to represent, and he was holding on to it so tightly that it had made him bleed.

So much symbolism it made your head ache.

He wondered, sometimes, what a painting of Treize, painted back then, would have looked like. Zechs had painted some in Africa, Treize had said once; just pencil sketches, but they'd been lost or destroyed.

The other Merquise; the one he'd actually commissioned and that hung over their bed was so much simpler. Just Duo on their bed, strewn with roses, and wearing only his hair and a smile.

There was no way Yuy – anyone – was getting to see that.

Heero cleared his throat a couple of times. 'What about now?'

'What about now _what_?' Duo worked his way back to Heero's last comment and glared at him. 'I don't actually think that's any of your business.' Laragh, catching the tone of his voice, whined softly. 'It's OK, sweetie. Well, you've seen it now. Would you like to have some coffee or do you have to get back? I can give you Zechs' contact details if you're interested.'

Heero took one last look at the painting, and followed Duo outside, into the sun. 'It's really for Relena. Perhaps I should find out whether or not she admires this style of painting.'

'Whatever you like. But since you see paintings primarily as investments, I should tell you that he's very popular, and the price is only likely to rise.'

He watched Heero think about it.

'Ah. I said that, didn't I? The first time we met? I'm sorry; I know nothing about art. You had one painting that I liked very much. The one with the poppies.'

'Yeah, I thought you liked that. It's still in the gallery if you're interested. We considered keeping it ourselves, but we….decided not to.'

Way too many reminders there for Treize. A very young man who'd died on the battlefield.

'Here's one of Zechs' cards.' Duo delved in his wallet and handed him over. 'Just so you know, his paintings aren't always that…personal.' Duo ruffled Laragh's ears, surreptitiously looking at Heero. 'It's just that he knows us.'

Well, he hadn't known Duo back then; only Treize. He'd known him in every sense, which had been a bit of an issue at the start. It wasn't all that easy coming to grips with being in a relationship, discovering sex and love and trust, when your lover's ex was still on the scene, still very much a close friend. It hadn't helped that Zechs was hot and sophisticated and so very much a part of Treize's world.

'I think,' Heero said slowly, 'that I would rather not have such an intimate portrait. I can see he's a very skilled artist but this…I don't think I would like to be revealed so obviously. Perhaps he could just paint Relena? From what I've read, I don't think it's essential for the groom to be in the portrait.'

Duo shrugged. 'It's up to you. If you're interested, I can arrange for you to meet him. He might be booked up anyway, so you won't have the option.'

'I'll think about it.' Heero took a sip of coffee. 'It's lovely out here. It's the first time I've been outside the city.'

'Yeah? You should get Miss Peacecraft to take you around a bit. The scenery's stunning all around here; we've got the sea and the mountains.'

'Perhaps.' Heero selected a shortbread biscuit, breaking a corner off for Laragh. 'Is she allowed have sweets?'

'Not really; she tends to throw them straight back up.' Duo grimaced. 'She used to live on the streets; she still has problems with her digestion. You can give her a little bit if you like.'

Laragh gulped down the microscopic crumb, tail thumping against Heero's legs, and then leaped to her feet, barking, at the sound of a car's engine, and took off around the corner of the house.

'She's a good guard dog.'

'Nah, she's hopeless, actually. If she hears strange noises at night, she tries to hide under the bed. She's only excited 'cause she knows it's Treize. He's got an old car; the engine sounds pretty distinctive.'

'Hello,' Treize was smiling when he walked out to meet them, Laragh frisking around his legs. 'I didn't think you'd be home, love.'

'Just a quick visit,' Duo grinned up at him, squeezing his hand briefly as Treize took the chair beside him. 'This is Heero Yuy; he wants Zechs to paint his fiancée and I was showing him our painting. Heero, this is Treize Khushrenada.'

Treize's brows lifted slightly as he leaned over to shake Heero's hand. Mr. Yuy's. When had he become Heero anyway?

Then Treize was doing his charming thing, congratulating Heero on the engagement, and saying how he'd known Relena when they were children. Yadda yadda yadda.

'Did you like the painting, Heero?'

'It was very interesting.' Heero stood up abruptly. 'Duo, thank you for taking me out here. I'm sorry if I've inconvenienced you at all.' He nodded to Treize. 'Please, don't get up. I can find my own way out.'

'See?' Duo waited for him to walk inside the house before scooting over to Treize's lap. 'Told you he was freaking weird.'

'Not very sociable certainly,' Treize agreed. 'Although he seemed to be happy enough talking to you. If you don't like him, darling, why on earth did you bring him back here?'

Duo groaned eloquently. 'God, don't ask. Quat was in the gallery when he came in and it all sort of snowballed. You know what Quat's like when he gets an idea in his head. It's like arguing with a force of nature or something! What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at the auction for hours.'

'The Manet was a forgery.' Treize tilted Duo's face up and kissed him. 'I really couldn't be bothered waiting around for the Victorian watercolours. I thought I'd just call in and check on Laragh on my way home, since it's the first day she's been all morning without either of us.'

Duo wound both arms around his partner's neck, smiling up at him. 'You're such a softie sometimes.'

'Are you so sure about that?' Treize placed a hand on each of Duo's hips, and tugged him forward.

'Uh, maybe not,' Duo said breathlessly, squirming against that wonderful, delicious hardness. No, not soft at all. 'Maybe we could just stay here and have lunch and oh _God_, do that again....'

'This?'

'Yeah.' Duo closed his eyes; one sensation at a time was more than enough to handle, and Treize's hands were moving down and down. 'Um, Treize we should go inside, don't you think? What if Jo comes out?'

'I think she's a little more discerning than that.' Treize lifted him slightly, just enough to slide off trousers and briefs. 'Now. That's better. Do you think Lu would object to taking a later lunch break than usual? If we happen to be unavoidably detained for a couple of hours?'

'Well, you are the boss,' Duo murmured, sliding both hands up Treize's chest, teasing the shirt buttons undone on the way. 'I guess she can take it up with you if she has any complaints.'

'As you say.' Treize arched back as one of Duo's hands found a nipple and tugged gently. 'Now, Mr. Maxwell, I believe I have one or two things I want to take up with you…'


	18. Chapter 18

Note: This one is dedicated to Dyna, my 100th reviewer so far. Many thanks to KS for editing.

_**Chapter 17:**_

_In which Duo and Trowa discuss art, life choices and a certain high maintenance blond._

Lucrezia let him into the gallery; Duo was halfway up a ladder when Trowa walked into the back, adjusting a painting.

'What d'you think, Lu? Up or down?'

'A little bit up to your left,' Trowa answered.

'Hey, Tro.' Duo never skipped a beat. 'Like this?'

'Perfect. Where's your spirit level?'

'I think Laragh ate it; can't find it anywhere. Wow!' Duo hopped off the ladder and emitted a piercing wolf whistle. 'Look at you, all dressed up!'

'I'm not all dressed up,' Trowa muttered.

'You are by your standards,' Duo retorted. 'I didn't actually know you owned a pair of jeans that weren't ripped somewhere. You look great. All sorted for the big date?'

Trowa nodded. 'I made reservations for that Italian place you recommended. I'm picking him up at seven; I thought I'd drop in and say hi first.'

Another whistle. 'You're actually driving to his place and collecting him. Wow. And you're all fancy. This must be seriously serious! Are you quite sure you're the real Trowa Barton and not some imposter?'

'Picking him up is the only way to guarantee getting him there on time.'

Duo grinned. 'Can you stay for a coffee? You know Quat's going to be late anyway.' Trowa nodded, and Duo picked the intercom and called Lucrezia. It still flummoxed him, sometimes, the way Duo did these things so casually now; asking the gardeners at Romfeller to weed a certain flowerbed, or giving dinner menus to their housekeeper.

Trowa wandered around the room, admiring the art and nodding to Lucrezia when she carried in their drinks. Duo just took it all for granted now; having people serve wait on him like that. 'These are pretty cool. Bit more _avant garde_ than the usual stuff you have in here.'

They were magnificent actually; huge canvases splashed with vivid colours.

I love that one.' Duo pointed at the painting he'd just straightened; an explosion of colours that somehow melded perfectly.

'Nice,' Trowa approved. 'How would that be for an engagement present? Am I supposed get you something?' It cost something to say that, without flinching, but fuck, they _were_ engaged, as attested to by those obscenely expensive rings, and a plethora of gushy articles in the society pages. Nothing was going to change that; it was just another fact of life that had to be accepted.

It was worth it; to see Duo's blinding smile in response. 'If you really want to get me a present, I'd love you to spend a bit of time training Laragh. We're going to end up living in an empty house with all our stuff in storage.'

'That's what you get for living in a museum,' Trowa told him. 'But, yeah, I'll try to find a couple of hours next week.' Damn. He'd been making excuses for days; now Duo had asked straight out, he'd have to do it.

'Treize is out on Wednesday evening,' Duo offered. 'You could come over and have dinner if you liked.'

Trowa shook his head. 'It's better if you're both there, actually. I can work with both of you; you need to learn the same things.'

'Thanks, Tro.' Duo was suddenly in front of him, one hand reaching up to shove Trowa's hair off his face. 'I like to see both eyes, sometimes. Thanks, really.'

'It's all right.' It wasn't really but it just _was_. Nothing he could do about it. 'I'll try harder, OK?'

He slid both arms around Duo's waist and gave him a quick hug. Duo made an inarticulate little sound and burrowed against his chest.

'What's wrong, Maxie?' Trowa folded Duo into a tighter embrace.

'Nothing, really.' His voice was slightly muffled. 'Everything's just too perfect, you know? Something's bound to go wrong.'

'Nothing's going to go wrong,' Trowa assured him. 'You're living in a fairytale, remember? That's just your Catholic guilt talking.'

Duo shrugged. 'Maybe. But I was happy there, at the church. It was like having a home and a family. And then they all died.'

'And it wasn't your fault,' Trowa said firmly. They'd had this conversation so many times. 'It wasn't you being punished for something. It _wasn't_, Duo.'

Another slight twitch of those slender shoulders. Oh, shit. It was impossible not to lean down and kiss the top of his head. A bad, very bad move. He had Duo in his arms, pressed against him and his body was remembering how it had used to feel, to kiss him properly. His mind was wondering if it would be the same; if he kissed differently now; if he tasted differently, and it would be so easy to tilt that pointed chin back and just _do_ it.

'Tro?' Duo looked up at him. There were times when he knew exactly what Duo was thinking; hell, there were times when everyone in the universe could tell exactly what Duo was thinking, and other times when he was as unreadable as a blank page.

Trowa let him go, abruptly.

'I'm sorry.' Duo whispered it; a tiny puff of sound travelling between them.

'Not your fault.'

That was about as close as they ever came to talking about it.

'So what are the latest casualties?' Trowa helped himself to coffee. 'I thought you were trying to Laragh-proof everything.'

'Trying's the operative word.' Duo groaned, grabbing on to the change of subject. 'You know what she had for breakfast this morning? One of Treize's really nice silk ties. He was pissed as hell.'

'Serves him right for leaving it on the floor,' Trowa said callously, making a mental note to buy Laragh some special treats when he visited.

'Wasn't on the floor! It was sort of dangling from the bedpost and, um, never mind,' Duo finished abruptly. 'I'd love it if you could come over and help us out a bit. Be way cheaper than having to buy a picture.'

Trowa winked. 'I wasn't planning to buy it.'

'In your dreams, Barton. I've got this place wired up tighter than a miser's fart.'

'Care to bet on that? You've been out of the game for years now.' Trowa shook his hair out of his eyes.

'So have you.'

'Mostly,' Trowa responded, which was mostly true.

Duo's eyes narrowed to amethyst slits. 'Something you haven't told me?'

'Dog training doesn't exactly pay a fortune.'

'It might,' Duo said tartly, 'if you ever took on any customers who'd actually pay you, instead of all those strays of yours. Anyway, you don't need the money. I know how much you have in the bank, and you never actually spend anything.'

'I need money to take Quatre out.' Trowa took a sip of his coffee; it was pretty good. 'What's the big deal? You've suddenly decided theft is morally wrong?'

Duo, about to take a drink himself, snorted liquid through his nose. Neither of them had ever been overly troubled by ethics. What was morally wrong was corporations keeping works of art, which they'd probably stolen themselves, or acquired through some sort of sketchy deals, locked in a vault for years, for their investment value alone.

'It's nothing risky, Max. Just a little bit of consultancy work. You ever miss it?'

Duo shrugged. 'Sort of. Sometimes. Bits of it. I miss working with you all the time.' He looked down at his watch. 'You should probably get going soon. It's twenty to seven.'

'I guess. Wouldn't want to keep him waiting. Oh, and he wants to go to the bike rally on Sunday.'

'Quatre? For real?' Duo hooted with laughter. 'Tro, I can't see him enjoying something like that.'

'Tell me about it,' Trowa groaned. 'I mentioned it yesterday and he's determined to come. He wants to know all about my life and my hobbies and shit.'

'Yeah, that sounds pretty much like Quat. Still, you'll have a cute blond applauding the hell out of you when you win.' He waggled his eyebrows. 'Might give you a special prize afterwards.'

'I doubt I'll win. I'm seriously out of training. I haven't raced in months.'

'Where you live, you don't need extra training.'

'It's just for fun. And there are horse trials being held on the same day; we can go and watch those when Quatre gets bored with the bikes. Sure you can't come with us?'

Duo shook his head. 'I told you. Treize's aunt is having a big family dinner for us on Saturday in Nova and we're staying over. Then there's some lunch thing the next day.'

'Tough being engaged,' Trowa observed mendaciously. 'Quatre wants me to go to this anniversary party for his parents.'

'And?'

'And what? Come on. It's so not my thing.'

'Family's a big thing for Quat. He just wants you to meet them. Look on the bright side; this way, you'll get to meet them in all in one go. Get it over with. And I'll be there.'

Glittering on Treize's arm, no doubt, Trowa thought sourly. No, thanks.

'It's just one night, Tro. It'd make him really happy. And you might even have fun.'

'Sure.' Trowa snorted. 'Do you have _fun_, as you put it, as these society things you go to with Treize? You're actually looking forward to spending the weekend with his family?'

'There are things I'd rather do,' Duo said carefully. 'But it's important to him; he does plenty of stuff just to make me happy, and he'll make it up to me when we get back home. It won't kill me to spend a bit of time with his family. And some of them are OK, at least the ones who don't think I'm a total gold-digging bimbo. I kind of like his Great Aunt Sophonisba, actually. She's mad as a brush but she's always been really nice to me.'

'Isn't she the one who thinks you're a girl?' Trowa took a gulp of his coffee.

Duo laughed. 'Yeah, sometimes. I think the hair confuses her. I'm scared she's going to give me a diamond tiara or something as an engagement present.'

'That sounds like a pretty crappy weekend. So are they all over the moon that you guys got engaged?'

'I doubt it. But they'll behave. At least while Treize is around.'

'And when he's not?' Trowa's tone was very hard.

'You can't protect me from everything in the universe, Tro. I can put up with the odd bitchy comment. It's not a big deal.'

'It should be.' Trowa's fingers clenched around the cup, knuckles showing white. Fuck. Those stuck up bastards. Duo was worth the whole lot of them put together.

'Trowa.' Duo's voice was very gentle. 'Just leave it, OK? Sometimes, you've got to pick your battles. And I've already won this one. I've got Treize; I can put up with being polite to the rest of the Khushrenadas a couple of times a year.'

'Pick your battles?' Trowa echoed. 'What the hell is that supposed to mean? That you just stand back and let them call you names.'

'No, actually. It means that I sometimes let things slide because it's not worth the aggro. They're his family. It's sort of nice that one of us has that. Sure, he doesn't get on with lots of them, but they're still a part of his life and some of them are actually OK. If I made a big deal out how some of them really feel about me, there'd just be a massive row and he'd end up storming out and never seeing them again. I don't want that. Anyway, I am capable of looking after myself. Sometimes, I do call them on stuff.' There was a definite edge to his tone now. 'I'm not just his toy boy, despite what some journalists seem to think.'

Trowa grinned suddenly. 'Oh, yeah. I saw the two of you on the front of that magazine. Good article?'

Duo made a face. 'I didn't read it. It was a nice pic of Treize though.'

'Nice one of you.'

Duo just ignored that; he always did. Trowa shook his head. A couple of years ago, he'd never envisaged that his Duo would be gracing the pages of a society magazine like this. Still less, that he'd have become fairly blasé about the fact.

Duo just shrugged when he mentioned it. 'It's not as if I like it. But there's no point getting all het-up about it. It's free publicity for the gallery, anyway.'

'You really don't object to having your private life splashed all over the weekend supplements?'

'I told you, I don't _like_ it. Why are you suddenly so curious about all this? It's not like I've never had my picture in the paper before. You'd better get used to it yourself. Given the guy you're currently dating.'

Trowa grimaced. '_Dating's_ a bit of a stretch. We've only been out once. And I think you've just answered your own question. Max, I don't want that sort of shit to happen to me.'

'Sorry, but at some point, someone's going to snap a picture of you two together. Face it, Tro. Your boyf probably has the most famous surname in this whole country.'

'Thanks for the sympathy,' Trowa said sourly.

'Heh, you're dating a cute blond billionaire; he's not exactly a burden. Sorry, but no sympathy here. You'll get used to it.' He gave Trowa a curious glance. 'Do you really like him? Enough to put up with all that stuff?'

'I thought you'd already arranged for the two of us to live happily ever after. It's a bit late to be asking if I like him, don't you think?'

Duo's braid twitched. 'It's not like I've forced you guys into an arranged marriage or something. I just thought you'd be good for each other. You're both used to being with partners who let you walk all over them. Sorry, Tro, but you do. The minute anyone starts getting close, or asking questions, or wanting any sort of commitment, you run like hell.'

'Thanks for the analysis. I don't know. I like him, yeah, but he's not exactly my type, is he? A bit on the high maintenance side.'

Duo grinned. 'So? You're always picking guys because you think they're low maintenance and it never works out. At least with Quat, you know what you're getting into. And it works both ways. Sure, he needs a fair amount of upkeep, but he really does treat his boyfriends like gold.'

Trowa made a face into his cooling drink. 'I don't need someone to bankroll me. And I hate people fussing over me.'

'If you ask me, it would do you the world of good to have someone fussing over you for a change, making you feel special.'

'I don't need any of that.' Trowa drained the dregs out his cold coffee. 'Be realistic for two seconds, Max, will you? It's not like it's ever going to be more than a bit of fun for either of us. At some point, he's going to have enough of playing around with his lifestyle coaching or whatever it is, and go back to work for Daddy. You think I'm an acceptable partner for the guy who's going to inherit Winner Enterprises? That his family would approve of me?'

'I think you'd be an amazing partner for anyone who was lucky enough to get you,' Duo said simply. 'And you don't actually _know_ any of that stuff; you're just making up reasons not to get involved with him so you won't get hurt.'

'Making up reasons?' Trowa shook his head. 'Get real, Maxwell. I hardly need to _make up_ things that already exist. I don't want to splashed all over some tabloid as Quatre Winner's new squeeze. Like you said, he's probably got the most recognisable name on the planet. Guys like that don't end up with guys like me. I'm hardly the sort of person he'll be taking home to meet the parents.'

'He's already asked you to, hasn't he?' There was a teasing little smile dancing around Duo's lips. Treize got to kiss that off, now. 'And yes, you _are_ making up reasons not to be with him.'

He poked Trowa in the ribs with one finger and then held it up. 'One. Quat's family loves him to bits. They'd accept anyone who made him happy. Two.' Another poke, harder this time; another finger held aloft. 'You never read those trashy magazines anyway so you'll never know what they write about you. Three. You always say that you don't care what people think, so who cares if they say if you're only after him for his money? You're not, are you?'

'Of course I'm not!'

Duo looked happily, Cheshire-Cat smug. 'See? You're probably one of the few people in the entire universe who could say that and mean it. You're perfect for him!'

'Perfect, right.' Trowa coated each syllable with biting sarcasm. 'We argue all the time; he's a control freak who thinks he's the centre of the known universe, and he expects non-stop adoration.'

'Yep, totally perfect. Tro, seriously. Yeah, you'll probably have to put up with some crap. You know how many sisters he has, right? They're all totally protective of their baby brother and they'll be total harpies until they see Quat's happy with you. At some point, you are going to end up with your photos in some gossipy rag, and yeah, all that stuff is shitty.'

He gave Trowa a very direct stare. 'It's up to you. But if you're really into someone, it's worth all that crap. I think so, anyway. There's no way I'd ever have given up Treize, just because some sleazy journalist wrote some trash about us, or someone called me a gold-digger.'

'You were right a minute ago; I should be going.'

'God, you're annoying sometimes,' Duo said mildly.

'So I'm told.'

'Just think about what I said, OK?'

'Yeah.' Trowa jerked his head toward the painting Duo liked. 'My offer still stands. Be nice to wake up to. You could hang it at the foot of your bed.'

'We've already got a painting there.' Duo didn't quite meet his eyes, cheeks stained ever so slightly with scarlet. Trowa had never actually been in their bedroom, but he had a pretty good idea what the painting was. He'd seen it one night, at Zechs' studio, before it was finished.

He'd wondered, back then, if Zechs had had a bit of a thing for Duo.

'What are these ones supposed to be anyway? Exploding stars?'

Duo shook his head. 'That's what I thought at first. But they're actually close-ups of flowers. The guy took really hi-def photos, and then painted them. I've dropped some pretty heavy hints to Treize anyway that I'd like this one.' Duo traced one hand over a swirl of colour. 'You know that poem that goes 'to see a Heaven in a Wild flower'? It's sort of like that.'

Trowa nodded. ''Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, and eternity in an hour.' What, Treize has you reading William Blake now?'

Duo laughed at him. 'No, he's not into these new-fangled modern poets from the eighteenth century. Quat lent me a Blake anthology. I really just wanted to see the art but some of the poems were cool.'

'Quatre actually reads Blake?'

'Sure. He loves poetry. He's full of surprises.'

He was too; answering the door fully-dressed for once, apparently ready to go. Miracles would never cease.'

'You're actually ready.'

'I am capable of punctuality,' Quatre informed him loftily, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. 'You look wonderful. Now, just give me two minutes to feed Samira and get some things for tonight and I'll be ready.'

'I'll feed the cat,' Trowa decided.

'Oh, that would be marvellous. There's some cooked chicken in the fridge and her dried food is on the floor in the pantry.

'You're a spoilt madam, you know that,' Trowa told the cat, who had hopped up on to the table to watch him prepare her dinner. She gave him a blue-eyed inscrutable stare, and then crossed her eyes at him. It was a nice kitchen; a shelf packed with cookery books; tacky foreign magnets and kids' finger paintings covering the fridge, and a lovely watercolour of a bluebell wood.

'There!' Quatre whirled into the kitchen, lap-top bag swinging from one hand. 'I told you I'd be quick. Goodbye, 'Mira, darling. Daddy will be home tomorrow. Be good!'

'That's all you're bringing?'

'Oh, no! My case is in the hall. Don't look so worried! It's just a little overnight one.'

'Little?' Trowa stared at the thing; Quatre could probably have crawled inside and shut it on himself. It was huge. It was bright aquamarine and covered in cartoon stickers. 'Are you staying the night or moving in permanently?'

'Well, I think it's little. Just some toiletries and a couple of changes of clothes for tomorrow. Now, we'd better go. Didn't you say you'd booked a table for seven?'

'A _couple_ of changes?'Trowa demanded, following him out the door. He ended up carrying the suitcase. Naturally. Quatre had presumably also decided to take his geology collection.

'Of course.' Those huge blue eyes gazed winningly up at him as Trowa pushed the elevator button. 'I wasn't sure what you had planned for us to do so I had to pack a few possible outfits.'

Oh. Trowa hadn't realised they'd be spending the next day together. That was his Saturday gone down the drain then. Quatre liked plenty of entertainment; liked his day planned out into neatly productive segments.

Duo had made a good choice, Trowa decided as soon as they walked into the restaurant. It was cosy without being precious or quaint, intimate without being screamingly romantic. And they had a genuine pizza oven which was a good sign.

'This is lovely,' Quatre beamed around happily as they sat down. 'How did you know about this place?'

'I asked Duo. You told me you like Italian food.'

'I love it.' Quatre, who was never shy in public; never shy anywhere so far as Trowa could see, reached out and squeezed one of his hands. 'This is our first real date, isn't it? Since you asked me out properly?'

'I suppose.' He couldn't remember officially asked Quatre out, but it had presumably happened at some point. And the sparky, sparkly blond wasn't such a bad consolation prize.

'If you'd like to have a drink, I can drive your truck home,' Quatre offered, handing over the wine list.

'You know how to drive a truck?'

'Of course. I've been driving horse boxes since I was old enough to have a license. I'm sure I can manage one little truck.'

'Is there anything you can't do?'

Quatre laughed. 'Oh, I'm sure there must be.'

'You really are unbelievable.'

'Thank you.'

'I'm not sure if it was a compliment.'

'I'm quite sure it wasn't. You never compliment me about anything.' That lovely mouth arranged itself into a pout. 'You haven't even told me I look nice.'

'Oh, here we go.' Trowa felt an odd little spurt of happiness; Quatre Winner, surprisingly, was proving quite an effective anti-depressant. 'When I take you home after dinner, I'll show you just how good I think you look. Will that do?'

'We'll have to see about that.' Quatre gave him a coy little smile and picked up his menu. 'Shall we get a couple of different starters to share? I'm starving!'

Trowa threw his head back and laughed because he just couldn't help it. God, this guy was going to be the death of him.


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: The GW characters sadly don't belong to me.**

Note: Many thanks to KS for editing, and to everyone who has taken time to read and review.

**Chapter 19:**

_In which Trowa and Quatre discuss the intimacies and intricacies of their new relationship…_

'Finished?' Trowa teased, watching Quatre scoop up the last of his ice-cream – actually Trowa's ice cream - and lick the spoon. For someone who looked like he lived on sunlight and moonbeams, the blond had an amazing appetite. For someone who claimed not to have a sweet tooth and never to eat dessert, he'd done a good job of polishing off Trowa's.

'I think so. I really enjoyed that.'

'Me too.' It was the truth; he'd had fun. Quatre was wonderful company; funny, smart, easy on the eyes. He was surprisingly easy to be with, when he relaxed and forgot that he was the self-proclaimed king of the world. After almost three hours of varied conversation, Trowa had realised that they had differing opinions on virtually everything in the universe. He'd also realised that he actually cared about what Quatre thought. And here and there they'd found little, unexpected things in common; stepping stones flung into the gulf between them.

'I _love_ Italian food,' Quatre sighed happily, picking up a breadstick and nibbling on it. 'Have you ever been there?'

'To some of the big cities, yeah. Let's say on business. And Duo and I spent a couple of weeks in Tuscany three years ago.'

'That's one of my absolute favourite places. Where did you go?'

That was another point in his favour, Trowa decided. Most of the guys he'd dated had taken exception to him having Duo – having someone who looked like Duo – in his life. Quatre didn't seem to care.

'We were based in Sienna but we hired a car and drove all around. It was great.' Trowa nodded for one of the waiters to bring the bill, before Quarte started licking the pattern of the plate. 'Put your wallet away. I'm getting this.'

'But I want to..'

'No.'

'But…'

'I said, _no_!'

'I…'

'Quatre. Shut it. Now.'

He used the voice that was mostly kept for training naughty puppies and it miraculously worked. The blond actually shut up.

'Don't worry. If it's too much, I can always nick something on the way out. Um, that was a joke,' he added, seeing the look of horror on Quatre's face.

'Sorry. Sorry. I'm just not used to being out with, ah, a person who…'

'You are, actually.' Trowa slid a sheaf of notes out of his wallet, adding a generous tip. 'You hang out with Duo. And I'm sure you've dated plenty of crooks. White collar ones, who've used insider information on the stock market, or cut their staff's salaries so they could give themselves a nice fat bonus.'

'My standards are rather higher than that,' Quatre informed him loftily.

'All evidence to the contrary, given who you're currently with,' Trowa grinned at him. 'Do you want to go for a drink somewhere, or head straight home?'

'What I'd really like,' Quatre said, having given it some consideration, 'would be to go for a walk on the beach. It's such a lovely night. Could we do that?'

'Why not?'

OK, that was a fairly unexpected request, but in a nice way. At least he didn't want to go to some trendy cocktail bar or something.

It turned out to be a lovely idea. At midnight, they had the beach all to themselves, with a full moon to glow on the waves, and gleam on Quatre's bright hair. The blond slid an arm around his waist as they walked down to the sea. Trowa wasn't normally into all that touchy-feely stuff, but it felt sort of nice having Quatre tucked against him.

'This is just beautiful,' Quatre breathed. 'I love watching moonlight on water, don't you?'

'Sure. It's right up there with long walks in the rain and snuggling under a blanket in front of an open fire.'

Quatre pulled his arm free, and give him a fairly creditable punch.

'You,' he announced in the manner of one making a major scientific discovery, 'are actually mocking me.'

'Surely not.' He caught the blond's arm, pulling him closer. 'I wouldn't do a thing like that. If you get pissed with me, you won't want to put out.'

'That's romantic. Not.'

'I'll show you what's romantic.' He kept the kiss very gentle at the start; a little dab of tongue, a scrape of his teeth against Quatre's bottom lip, before catching it in a little nip, and properly sinking into that lovely mouth.

'Wow.' Quatre virtually melted into his arms. 'I thought you said you weren't at all romantic.'

'Maybe just a little bit,' Trowa confessed, grinning. Suddenly, the idea of snuggling with Quatre, with or without the trappings of open fires or cuddly cashmere blankets, seemed awfully appealing. 'So…have you ever had sex on a beach?'

'Just the once. And before you ask, no, I didn't like it, and I certainly don't want a repeat performance. I got sand in all sorts of inconvenient places.'

'The sex can't have been that good if that's all you remember about it.'

'It was perfectly good,' his companion said tartly. 'And I ruined a lovely linen shirt; it was impossible to get the seawater stains out.'

'Like I said, it must have been pretty crappy sex if you were worrying about your clothes afterwards. How about if you took them off first and folded them neatly on a rock or something?'

'Trowa! It's too cold. And what if somebody sees us?'

'Then they'll get to have ringside seats.' Trowa kissed him again, one hand sliding his shirt loose. 'How about if I promise to keep you warm?'

'We are _not_ having our first time on a beach. I want it to be special.'

Trowa grinned. 'I know. I was thinking of maybe flying you to Venice, and finding a nice hotel overlooking the Grand Canal that has four-poster beds, and hiring a gypsy violinist to serenade us.'

'Oh, I'd love that!' Quatre said happily. 'Really?'

'No.' Of course, in Quatre's world, people probably did stuff like that. 'I promise, I'll make it special for you, wherever we are.' He traced both thumbs along the flare of Quatre's collarbones.

'I'm sure you will. I just think it's a little soon, don't you? We should get to know each other a little better first.'

'Mmm. I know a great way how we could get to know each other better.'

'Pft. What part of _no_ don't you understand?'

'The part that sounds like a challenge. Come on, you're spending the night with me, right?' Trowa bent his head down a few inches, traced the outline of Quatre's ear with his tongue. 'I was sort of hoping for a bit of action. Considering I did buy you dinner and all.'

Quatre shuddered. God, he was sensitive there. 'I don't sleep with people just because they buy me food.'

'I gave you my dessert, remember? All that lovely mint chocolate ice-cream.' He'd tasted of it when they'd kissed. And there was definitely going to be more kissing in the immediate future, given how Quatre was looking up at him with that little pout. 'Isn't that worth a little something in return?'

Quatre's expression turned positively wicked, and one hand ran down Trowa's thigh to cup between his legs. 'Possibly a big something. All I'm saying is that I'd rather wait to have sex with you. That still leaves plenty of options for when you take me home tonight.'

As it turned out, it did. And his lovely, creative, deliciously adventurous blond was more than willing to explore them with him.

Trowa had never resented his animals in his entire life. He did the next morning, simply because getting up to take care of them meant leaving his bed, and the blond in it, to feed them.

When he got back up to his room, over an hour later, Quatre blinked up at him sleepily. 'Mmph. What time is it?'

'Nearly twelve.'

'No! It can't be that late. I always wake up at six.'

'Sorry.' Trowa picked up his alarm clock. 'See? Five to twelve. What's the big deal? Do you have stuff you need to do?'

'I suppose not.' The blond in his bed snuggled back to his pillow. 'Where did you go?'

'To check on the animals.'

'Come back to bed?'

'Say please.'

'Please, Trowa.' Well, he probably said something like that, but Trowa wasn't really paying that much attention, because Quatre had flung back the blankets and it was more important to look at him than listen to whatever his mouth was saying.

'Oh, you're cold!' Quatre gasped as Trowa stripped quickly and dived under the sheet with him. 'You don't have to be self-conscious, you know. I _have_ seen you naked before.' He kissed Trowa firmly on the mouth. 'You're so lovely.'

Trowa shrugged, shaking his hair down over his face. 'Hardly in pristine condition.' He felt in even more next to Quatre's flawless, gleaming perfection.

'They don't still hurt, do they?'

Oh, God. This one kept surprising the hell out of him. Most guys who saw his back tried saw hard not to look that the effort was almost tangible, or else oozed questions and sympathy. With Quatre, there was just a matter of fact question and a cool, almost clinical appraisal of his body. It was damn refreshing.

'No.' It was true, pretty much. You couldn't feel physical pain after that many years. Not really. Even if you could still wake up drenched with sweat and screaming and convinced your flesh would be torn to bloody ribbons after nightmares that were far, far too real.

'Well then. Roll over.'

'What are you planning to do to me?' Trowa shifted on to his stomach obediently, trying not to tense, because he really wasn't crazy about the vulnerability of that particular position.

'Just a back rub. Shh. I promise, you'll like it.' Two soft, knowing hands ghosted up his thighs, and kisses started to flutter down his spine.

'Quatre. Just how long are you planning to keep this up?'

'Hmm?' Quatre glanced up, a slyly sexy little smile on his lips that just begged to be kissed off. 'Keep what up?'

'Torturing me.'

'I don't know.' He leaned forward, pressed a little promise of a kiss to Trowa's inner thigh. 'How long do you think you can keep up with me?'

'Try me.'

'Yes, Master.' Quatre flung him a little smirk and then that gorgeous, generous mouth was drifting over his skin, heading in a definitely southerly direction. Bliss. Especially when those perfect lips fastened over his cock in the most perfect embrace. Trowa had just enough brain cells left at that point to flip them around so he could reciprocate.

There were little motes of sunlight dancing before his eyes when he eventually came.

'Oh, that was just lovely,' Quatre sighed after, rolling over and burrowing into the pillows.

'You seemed to be enjoying it.' Trowa grinned down at him. He had a million things to do, but it was sort of tempting just to curl up with his lover for a couple of hours and doze.

'Very much,' Quatre assured him. 'Now, what are we going to do today?'

Trowa blinked. Oh, God. Any other guy would be happy to go back to sleep after sex; especially that sort of sex. Quatre Winner wanted to plan his schedule. He'd be reaching for that damn diary of his next.

Instead, he sat up properly, bubbling with ideas. 'We could go into town and have lunch somewhere nice, and then maybe look around the shops, or watch a film, or we could go for a walk along the harbour. Have you ever done one of those cruises? I know they're really for tourists but they look fun. Or we could drive out to the organic market or we could go to that lovely antique arcade in town or we….'

'Quatre, wait a sec. I hate shopping.'

'You can't!' Those blue eyes couldn't have looked more shocked if Trowa had confessed to hating breathing, or sex. 'It's practically my favourite thing.'

Trowa lifted his eyebrows. 'Better than sex?'

'Well, that depends.' Quatre did that little trick of his where he glanced up through his lashes. He probably thought it was appealing as hell; Trowa found it irritating, mostly. Although it was considerably less so when the blond was naked and had just given him a mind-blowing blow job.

'On what?'

'On the sex. Obviously. Do you truly not like shopping? _Why_?'

'I just don't. Anyway, I actually have stuff I need to do today. I hadn't realised you were planning to spend the whole day with me.'

'Oh.' Quatre bit his lip, looking down at his hands. 'I'm sorry. I just thought….we haven't seen each other all week. I thought it would be nice to spend some time together. Why did you not think I'd want to have the day with you?'

Trowa shrugged. 'You always seem to be doing millions of things. I thought maybe you'd want to spend time with your family or something.'

'But you're my boyfriend!' Quatre sounded genuinely bewildered. 'Of course I want to be with you. I haven't even seen you since last week.'

'I'm sorry. I don't exactly have a 9-5 job. You know that.'

'Nor do I, but what's the point of being a couple if we only get to see each other once a week?'

Fuck. This was the point when he usually heard the warning sirens; when they started to want more than he was willing to give. Which was pretty much anything more than sex and the occasional night clubbing.

And then Quatre sat up, and said the words that were usually the finally death knell.

'I think we need to talk about our relationship, don't you? About what we both want.'

Oh, fuck.

This was the problem with taking them home. You couldn't just get up and leave. And he was pretty sure that Quatre wouldn't leave if he was asked.

'I thought we were doing OK. We had fun last night. And just now. Right?'

Quatre pulled himself up against the headboard, scowling. 'I want more than fun. I want something meaningful.'

'I know you do.' Trowa bent down and kissed him, swallowing the soft little sigh as their lips touched. 'But come on, Quatre. Be realistic. This thing between the two of us. You know it's never going to come to anything. That doesn't mean we can't enjoy being together.'

'I have no idea what you're talking about,' Quatre told him, sadly undistracted by the kiss. 'Why can it never come to anything? Do you think I'm just with you because I want sex? The sex I'm actually refusing to have with you?'

'Were you not here a few minutes ago?'

'Oh, pish tosh. I have two hands and a vibrator. I'm capable of bringing myself off.'

'That's…sort of insulting. You seemed to be enjoying yourself, from what I saw.'

Quatre produced an exasperated little huff. 'I didn't mean it like that. It's always been wonderful between us, but I don't just want, or need, a boyfriend just for sex. I want someone who'll do other things with me, and be a part of my life, and get to know my friends and my family. You don't seem interested in any of that.'

'Oh, not this again. I don't think your parents will want you bringing a total stranger to their party.'

'You wouldn't be a stranger if you met them beforehand,' Quatre retorted coolly. 'And I think they'd actually love to meet their only son's boyfriend.'

Trowa sighed. Shit. 'Whatever. Look, I don't exactly fit into your world, do I?'

'Not if you're not prepared to make the effort, no.' He drew his knees up to his chin and wrapped both arms around his ankles. 'I'm sorry. I don't think this is going to work, is it? We both obviously have very different views on what our relationship should be.'

There it was; a nice, easy way out. Nobody would get hurt, this early on. Much better just to let him walk away.

'Quatre. I'm not with you just for sex.' He flicked his hair back, gave Quatre a small smile. 'The sex that you're so adamantly refusing to give me. I'm not comfortable meeting your family yet, OK? You've got to admit, they're kind of intimidating. But I can try to spend more time with you. Will that do?'

The blond head nodded eagerly. 'Yes, please. When are you free next week? I'm meeting a new client on Monday evening so that's out.' He dived off the bed, rummaging in his mound of luggage and surfacing with an iPad in one hand.

'Wow.' Trowa tried not to drool. It wasn't easy. Gorgeous naked guy holding gorgeous shiny gadget. 'I thought they weren't on sale in Sanque yet.'

'Oh, they're not. I had it couriered over from the States. Would you like one? It just takes a day or so to deliver.'

'Quatre, you can't buy me something like that.'

'Why ever not? If you'd like one, I'll get you one.' His fingers flickered over the screen. 'Let's see. How about Tuesday?'

Trowa shook his head, relieved that they'd apparently moved on from the subjects of obscenely expensive gifts. He'd known Quatre for long enough to realise that the little blond's favourite thing, sex and shopping notwithstanding, was making plans. 'No good for me. Wednesday?' God, it was ridiculous, really; if this kept up, he'd have to start keeping a diary of his own.

'Wednesday, let's see,' Quatre murmured, looking at the screen. 'Oh, I'm sorry. I'm going to a film with Wufei in the evening.'

'_Excuse_ me? Wufei? As in the guy you dumped to be with me? And now you're standing me up to spend time with him?'

Quatre clicked his tongue irritably. 'I'm doing nothing of the sort. I meet him on the train most mornings and sometimes we go and have tea together. I _told_ you. We both have tickets for the French film festival and he suggested that we go together. I would have asked you except that you've already told me that you hate subtitled films.'

'Oh, right, so it's my fault your ex gets to be with you.'

'It's only one evening and you can come if you like.' He gazed at Trowa soulfully. 'What's wrong? Don't you trust me?'

Fuck. Trowa wasn't the greatest guy at relationships, but even he knew there was only one possible answer to that question. Especially if he ever wanted to get Quatre into bed again.

'Of course I trust you.' More or less. Trust was a commodity that had to be earned over time; he'd hadn't known Quatre anywhere near long enough. 'I'm just not sure I trust this guy who seems to be trying to move in on my boyfriend. My utterly gorgeous, sexy, irresistible boyfriend,' he added, brushing a kiss across Quatre's mouth for good measure.

It worked. Quatre sparkled up at him. 'You don't have to worry, I promise. He knows perfectly well that I'm with you. I'm sorry, but I've already promised to meet him. How about Thursday?'

Trowa nodded; what the hell? If he was supposed to be doing something else, he'd cancel it.

'What shall we do? Where would you like to go?'

Trowa – almost – suppressed an urge to laugh and then just gave in. 'Have you ever been bowling?' It was something he and Duo did, sometimes. And it would give him plenty of opportunities to leer at Quatre's ass when he bent over.

'No. But I love trying new things. Let's do that. On condition that you let me choose the restaurant for dinner.'

'OK. On condition that it's not some poncey five-star place that costs a fortune. And it has to be in Sanque,' he added hurriedly.

Quatre laughed. 'Drat. I know the loveliest little bistro in Paris, overlooking the Seine.'

'Nope. Maybe some other time.' Right, that was sorted. Enough time wasted on talking. 'If you really like to try new things, I could suggest something.'

'No. A minute ago, you had all sorts of jobs to do today. Can't I help?'

Trowa grinned at that. 'I doubt it, unless you've been hiding the fact that you're a professional dog handler. I teach a couple of training classes at the local vet's on Saturday afternoon. You can come along and watch if you like.'

'I'm not sure if I'd enjoy that, actually. Would you mind if I just stayed here? I could take one of your horses out for a bit.'

'You won't be bored?'

'I'll be fine. It'll be a nice change for me. Really. I'll just call my neighbours to ask them to feed Samira and then I can stay here tonight and we can go to the bike rally together in the morning. Perfect.' He tapped on his iPad – lovely thing – apparently happy to have every second of the next twenty four hours planned out.

'About that. Seriously, Quatre. I don't think you'll be into it.'

'But I'm looking forward to it! I've even bought a leather jacket and a pair of jeans with a studded belt so I can fit in properly.'

'I like the idea of you in leather and studs. But you could just model them here for me? We don't need to actually go anywhere.'

'Maybe some other time,' Quatre teased back. 'I have to go because I'm meeting Zechs there and introducing him to a friend who wants to commission a painting from him.'

'At a bike rally? That seems a bit odd.'

'Yes, I know, but Heero, that's my friend, has just got engaged to a friend of my sister and he wants a portrait of her, but he's had meetings for the last couple of days and he's flying back to Japan on Monday and Zechs was planning to go to the rally anyway and there wasn't really any other time that suited them and since I know them both I offered to meet them there and introduce them…'

'OK, OK, I get it,' Trowa said hurriedly. He hadn't a clue what any of that meant, didn't really want to get into it. Quatre could sort out his own tangled social engagements. 'Look, I'd better go. I'm supposed to be working at two.'

Driving back home, several hours later, he was actually looking forward to Quatre still being there. Well, assuming he hadn't got bored by himself and gone home. It was an oddly pleasant little fantasy; that he could pull up outside the door and Quatre would run out to meet him with one of those blindingly happy smiles.

It didn't happen like that. He could hear the dogs barking in the kennel, but there was no other sign of life. Shit. Maybe he hadn't bothered to stay after all. Trowa parked the car and did a quick sweep of the stables, in case he was still there.

Quatre hadn't just mucked out the stalls; the tack he'd used was gleaming . Trowa shook his head in bemusement. He'd never figure the guy out. He wouldn't carry his own suitcase but he'd obviously spent a couple of hours cleaning the stable yard.

He was on his knees in the flowerbed Trowa had planted at the side of the barn, when Duo had given him some rose bushes. He had a couple of leaves in his hair, a smudge on one cheek, and his hands were covered in little scratches. He also had a fair amount of Trowa's garden on his cream linen trousers.

'What are you doing?'

'Weeding. How do you expect these unfortunate flowers to survive when their roots are choked up with dandelions ? And I bet you've never pruned them!'

'I never have time.' Trowa leaned against the wall, a broad grin on his face. 'I wouldn't have thought you'd be the type to like gardening.'

'I love it.' Quatre tugged at a particularly stubborn root and flung it at Trowa's feet. 'You need to start looking after your poor flowers. They'll die if you keep neglecting them like that.'

'I've got you to do it for me. You know, I'm starting to think I might keep you. You're pretty useful to have around the place.'

'I'm not sure if I want to be kept as your handyman.'

Trowa's grin widened. 'I'm sure I could find you a few interesting things to do with your hands.

'Could you indeed?' Quatre's gaze sharpened. 'What are you hiding behind your back? Is it something for me? Did you get me a present?'

Trowa produced the little posy of late bluebells he'd noticed on the drive home, feeling absurdly shy about it. Stupid, but he'd never given anyone flowers before, and Quatre was probably used to getting orchids or lilies from whoever he was dating.

'Oh, they're beautiful!' He couldn't have looked more pleased if Trowa had handed him an armful of exotic blooms. 'How did you know bluebells are my favourite flowers?'

'I just guessed. I saw that picture in your kitchen last night. How was your ride anyway?'

Quatre grinned. 'Almost as good as the one this morning. I love it out here. I even saw a couple of deer in the forest.'

'Did you see the peregrines?'

'I don't know. What are they?'

'Birds of prey. There's a pair nesting behind the house. They're pretty rare in Sanque.'

Quatre didn't look terribly interested. 'I don't know anything about birds. Are they like pheasants? Can you eat them?'

'No! Of course you can't. They're an endangered species. But talking about food, I should go and get dinner started.'

'Oh, it's taken care of,' Quatre glowed happily up at him. 'I defrosted the chicken you had in the freezer and put it in the oven. It should be ready soon. I love roast dinners at the weekend, don't you? ' His smile turned into something closer to a smirk. 'I must say, for someone who claims to be a vegetarian you have a lot of meat in your kitchen.'

'You cook too? Right, I'm definitely keeping you here.' This was so – odd. Arriving home to dinner on the table wasn't something that usually happened, not since Duo had left. Cathy did cook when she visited, but her culinary repertoire was confined to heating up canned soups or frozen dinners. 'It's for Duo, mostly. But I do eat chicken sometimes, if it's organic.'

'Yes, I called Duo to check.' Quatre stood up, making a face as he noticed what a mess his clothes were in. 'Oh, can you call him back? I don't think it was anything important.'

'Sure.' Trowa was flipping his 'phone open when Quatre cleared his throat, very loudly. 'What?'

The blond smiled up at him. 'I've just made you dinner, cleaned up your stable, and weeded your flowers, totally spoiling a new pair of trousers in the process, I might add. Don't I at least get a kiss for all my trouble?'


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20:**

_In which Duo and Treize discuss wedding plans…_

Duo blinked as Treize swung the car into a halt. 'We're here already?'

Stupid question, because they so obviously were. Sophie Khushrenada's manor house, built of the same honey-gold stone as Romfeller, but several centuries later, at a time when houses no longer needed to be fortresses, gleamed before in the early afternoon soon.

'So we are.' Treize gave him a questioning look. 'Are you ready to talk to me now, darling? Or do I have to drag you into those bushes and molest you?'

Duo grinned. 'If that's supposed to be a threat, it's not a very effective one. Treize, seriously, I'm just being stupid about something. Nothing to worry about.'

'Anything that actually keeps you silent for almost two hours is most certainly something to worry about. You do realise you've hardly said a word since we left the city?'

Duo nibbled at his bottom lip. 'It's _stupid_. Honest. Just - I called Tro yesterday, when you'd gone to meet Zechs. I thought he'd like to come over and watch a movie or something.' He shrugged, flipping his braid over one shoulder. 'Anyway, Quat was at his place, so it didn't happen.' Another shrug. 'Told you it was dumb; it's just the first time he's ever not been around for me.'

'You wanted them to get together,' Treize reminded him gently.

'I _know_. And I'm glad they're happy. Really. But….'

'But for the first time since you've known him, he's put someone ahead of you.'

Duo ducked his head, nodding. 'Yeah. That's awful, right? I mean, I love Quat to bits. I think he'll be great for Tro. But last night, I just felt really jealous of him. I guess I know now how Trowa feels about us.'

'Oh, love.' Treize pulled him close. 'Stop this. You know how Trowa feels about you. You know that if you really needed him, he would be there for you in one heartbeat, and that nothing or no one in the universe could stop him.'

'I know.' Duo drew a shaky little breath, tucking his head into the taller man's shoulder. 'I _know_. Sorry. I'm being an idiot, right? It's just – he wasn't too pleased when we got engaged, and I think he's sort of OK now, but it's still…it's like I'm moving further away from him.'

It was always so hard to explain. Treize really, really made an effort to understand, to accept that Trowa was an integral part of his lover's life, but he didn't really get it. He couldn't. He'd grown up in safety, with a loving family to take care of him. Duo and Trowa had only had each other, for so many years.

'I guess I don't want to lose him. You know?'

'You won't,' Treize said firmly, tilting Duo's head back and kissing him. 'You're both far, far too stubborn ever to let that happen. Things may change a little between you, but that's life, sweetheart. You'll always be there for each other, and that's something that will never change.'

'Yeah.' Duo firmed his shoulders, flipping his braid back, feeling the world slowly right itself. 'Thanks.'

'My pleasure.' Treize said it very formally, making him laugh.

'So are you ready to talk now? I'm not the only one who was quiet on the drive here. Are you going to tell me what's wrong or do I have to drag you under a rosebush and ravish you?'

'As delightful as that sounds, I think my aunt's butler might be rather shocked.' He nodded towards the open door of the house. 'Let's go and get this over with? We can talk afterwards.' He frowned slightly as he surveyed the other parked cars. 'What a wonderful day this is going to be. May I apologise in advance, Duo, for just how bored you're going to be?'

'Oh, I'll let you make it up to me when we get home.' Duo winked at him. 'Or possibly later tonight. Maybe we could shock everyone at the dinner table?'

Treize was laughing as they got out of the car. Score one to Duo. To stupid Duo for being so wrapped up in his own problems he hadn't noticed his boyfriend was also brooding about something.

Lady Sophonisba Khushrenada beamed as they were shown into her drawing room.

'How lovely to see you both! Treize, darling, I'm sorry but your cousin Freddie desperately wants to talk to you about something. He's been going on about it all morning. Would you mind terribly just going and getting it over with?'

'Must I? Treize bent and kissed his great-aunt's cheek. 'What did you even invite him for? He's a bore, and that wife of his is a nightmare.'

'I know, I know. But he _is_ your first cousin, and I wanted to see the girls and I could hardly invite them without their parents, could I?' She smiled winningly up at him. Duo had seen photos of Sophie as a girl. She'd been a knockout. You could still see traces of it sometimes, when she smiled; a woman who'd floated through life on beauty and charm. 'Besides I want to talk to Duo. Now run along.'

Trieze made a face and did as he was told. It always made Duo laugh, the way she treated his boyfriend like a little kid.

'Now, Duo, what are you going to have to drink?'

As always, there was a crystal glass of his favourite soda among the delicate porcelain tea cups, and a plate of chocolate and macadamia cookies to go with the finicky little scones and finger sandwiches.

'He's looking well,' Sophie commented, filling a plate for him. 'You've made him very happy, you know.'

Duo nodded. 'Yeah. He's been asking me for a while now. He's pretty persuasive when he wants to be.'

Treize's great aunt smiled at him. 'Of course. But that wasn't what I meant. Ever since you two met, he's been happy. I don't know if I ever thanked you for that.' She hesitated, slender fingers toying with the handle of her cup. 'Does he still have nightmares? About Africa?'

'Sometimes.' Duo put his own glass down and looked directly at the woman who was the closest thing he'd ever known to a grandmother. He'd fantasised about having a granny when he was a kid, like the picture books they'd read at the orphanage. A little white-haired old lady who baked apple pies and knitted sweaters and had a cat and a rocking chair.

Instead, he'd got Sophie Khushrenada who probably didn't know where the kitchen in her own house was, and terrorised her entire extended family, which included royalty and aristocracy all over Europe, and would probably shoot any cat stupid enough to go near her exquisite clothes.

She loved Treize as much as he did. She was one of the few people in the world who knew what had happened the first night they'd met. What had almost happened.

'You don't just forget stuff like that. He probably won't, ever. But he talks about it sometimes. We sort of have an arrangement; if one of us has a nightmare, he wakes the other one. I think maybe that helps.'

Well, he thought it helped Treize, anyway, because sometimes he just needed reassurance. Duo didn't much like talking about his past. It was the _past_, it was over and done with, and most of the time he just wanted to forget a lot of it had ever happened.

And it was different for both of them. Treize would probably never really get over losing so many men, just because he'd been the commanding officer and in his noble, honourable mind, that made him responsible. Duo had blood on his own hands, and he'd never regretted any of it. It had meant that he and Trowa had got to go on living.

Sharing was the deal though, and the only way he could convince Treize to open up.

'I'm sure it does.' Her blue eyes, watching him, were very soft and she gave a quiet laugh. 'I have something for you.' She dipped into her handbag and produced a small box. It seemed to be the fashion, lately, for people to give him these little velvet bags. It was another ring. A ruby this time. He'd never seen anyone wearing it in real life, but it appeared in some of the family portraits at Romfeller.

'I never had a daughter,' Sophie said quietly. 'I've always expected to give it to the girl Treize married. But I'm just as glad to give it to you.'

'I can't take this,' Duo whispered. 'It's beautiful, Soph, but it's part of your family history.'

'Silly boy.' She reached out and closed his fingers around the little box. 'It's your family too now. Heaven help you. When Treize came to see me last week, I offered it to him, to use as your engagement ring, and he said he wanted to give you something special, something that was just for you.' She gave his hand a little squeeze. 'Your ring is beautiful, but I want you to have this too. Just wear it sometimes, please. It's wrong for such a lovely thing to be shut up in a box all the time, and I can't wear rings with my arthritis.'

Duo shook his head. 'But it's not like _I'm_ ever going to have a daughter to leave it too.'

'You never know. There's always adoption.'

'I don't think so,' Duo said wryly. 'We have talked about it and it's not really something we want. Not now anyway. I'm not sure if either of us is cut out to be a parent.'

'I think you'd both be wonderful. Now, tell me all about the wedding plans.'

'OK.' Duo swallowed a mouthful of sponge cake. 'We've set the date; June the 30th, so we have nearly three months to go.'

'Duo! You can't plan a wedding in three months.'

'Yes, we can. The actual ceremony is going to be in the rose garden at home, just us and a few really close friends. We both want you to be there for that. Then there'll be a big shindig in the evening. I'd kind of like the whole thing to be small, but he wants to invite half of Sanque so…'

'So you are graciously indulging him?'

'Yeah. Something like that,' he grinned at her.

'Where is the reception to be?'

'We haven't figured that out yet. Treize went to look at a couple of places yesterday afternoon; I'm not sure if he was keen on any of them. I guess we'll figure it out as we go along.'

Ooops. He'd forgotten all about that, forgotten to ask how it had gone. But he'd come in late, and Duo had been half-asleep on the couch with a movie and the dog and a glass of wine and the inevitable had happened. Anyway Treize was good at stuff like this, and Duo hadn't a clue.

Sophie shook her head. 'Men! You can't just 'figure out' a large wedding, dear. Especially not in June. Everything's probably been booked up months in advance; florists, tailors, bakers…'

'Really? I didn't think of that. We haven't really talked much about the actual wedding. The gallery's really busy right now and we're trying to stop our new dog from eating her way through the whole house.'

Sophie bubbled with laughter. 'Oh dear. Is she really as destructive as Treize tells me?'

'I'm afraid so. She's getting a bit better, though. My friend Trowa is helping us with her.'

'Trowa? The tall one with green eyes?' She took a delicate sip of tea. 'I only wish I'd met him thirty years ago. Or even twenty.'

'You're still a babe, Soph. I bet Tro would totally go for you if he was into girls.'

That made her laugh again; a nice sound. Duo always felt a little bit sorry for her, living alone in this perfect house, since her husband had died. Most of the Khushrenadas were too intimidated to tease her the way he did; too worried she might cut them out of the will, probably.

He gulped the last drops of his drink and carefully placed the glass back on the table. 'Sorry, would you mind if I go and find Treize? Make sure he doesn't kill any of his family?' He blew her a kiss as he walked out the door and almost fell over Suzanne Khushrenada. Treize's cousin's wife turned to face him with a moderately well done show of surprise; after all, she'd obviously been waiting for him.

'Duo!' She air-kissed him on both cheeks, careful not to touch actual skin. 'It's lovely to see you again. And I believe I must congratulate you.' She gave him a tight little smile. 'You managed to get him to propose! You must be so proud of yourself.'

'Yep. I'm this month's pin up for the toy-boy union. It's cool!'

Duo's smile was bland as a blank sheet of paper and her own smile wavered slightly. 'How sweet. I was wondering, could you and I have a little chat for a moment? There's something I want to say to you.'

'Sure.' Not like he could actually refuse, with those long talons resting on his skin, like a bird of prey.

'Freddie was planning to have a little talk with Treize before dinner, and I thought I'd just have a little word with you. After all, I married into this family too, so I'm the perfect person to discuss this with.'

'Um, OK. What do you want?'

'I hope you're going to be sensible about this, but we assume you are going to sign some sort of pre-nuptial agreement. It's nothing personal; I signed a contract before I married Freddie. It's just a practical precaution, you know, to benefit both parties. '

'Oh, right.' _Right_. That was it; he'd planned to play nice, but if that cow was taking off the gloves, then so be it. 'Yeah. We've talked about it. Treize is of the opinion that if I was a cold-hearted, mercenary, avaricious little bitch, then he'd get me to sign something but since he happens to trust me implicitly it's not necessary.' He beamed at her. 'But every couple is different, right? I'm sure dear Freddie had his own reasons. OK, see you at dinner.'

Treize was in their room, sunk deep into the sofa and thought. He glanced up at Duo's entrance and smiled.

'You're looking positively gleeful about something. What have you been up to?'

Duo took a flying leap across the room and flopped down in his lap. 'I've just been hideously rude to that harpy Freddie married.'

Treize kissed the top of his head. 'I knew there was a reason why I fell in love with you.'

'And you're pissed. What's wrong? Or do I need to ask? Suzanne said her husband was going to have a little chat with you.' He swivelled around to look at the other man. 'Just how badly did you eviscerate the poor guy?'

'Badly enough that neither he, nor any member of this family, will ever bring up the subject again. Duo, love, I'm sorry. You shouldn't have had to put up with that.'

Duo shrugged. 'It's OK. I kind of had fun. God, she's such a bitch, Treize.'

'How did you get on with Sophie?'

'Good. Look.' He delved into his pocket for the ring. 'I got a present!'

Treize laughed. 'The ring? I'd expected that. She wanted me to give it you as your engagement ring, did she tell you?'

'Yep. I wouldn't have minded, you know. It's a beautiful thing.'

Treize shook his head. 'No. I wanted you to have something special that I chose for _you_; not just something that happened to be in my family.'

'I do, really, like the family stuff, you know. Even the bitchy in-laws and the arguing. It's what normal families do. I'd never had any of that before you.'

'Well, if it's bitchy in-laws you want, you've come to the right place.'

'It's lovely, isn't it?' Duo held his hand up to the window, sparking rays of crimson fire. 'Treize, are you sure I should be taking this from her? She was really insistent but I feel sort of like I'm not entitled to it. I mean, it's been in your family for how many centuries?'

'Seraph, you're the one person in the universe who is entitled to it. And Sophie would far prefer you to have it than some of my female cousins.'

'I guess. Maybe I should wear it at dinner, just to give Suzanne heart failure. I should have brought my diamond as well. Then I'd have the whole set. Does this mean I'm, like, triple engaged to you? '

Treize smiled at him, with a slight shadow of hesitation in his eyes. 'If you like. A question, love. Are you sure?'

'Of course I'm sure. This is something Freddy said, right? Treize, I've said yes multiple times, I've proposed to you, I'm going around with no less than three engagement rings, and counting, and I've never been happier. What part of that makes you think I'm not totally sure?'

'You're very young.'

Duo frowned. 'I'm not that young.'

'Younger than me.'

'Oh, piffle.' Duo retorted, borrowing a favourite expression of Quatre's. 'Don't start going on like you're ancient and I'm just a kid. You're not even ten years older than me. And it's cool for me marrying an older man. When you're ninety and can't see properly,

I'll be a sprightly eighty year old, chasing the pool boy around.'

'Ah. We're going to have a pool, have we? You don't even like swimming.'

'Not in this country where it's freezing for most of the year. When we were in Thailand I swam all the time. But a pool boy would be kind of nice, just to brighten up the scenery a bit,' Duo teased, reaching up one hand to smooth the creases between his lover's winged brows. 'Tell me what's wrong, Treize. I couldn't care less about the stupid age difference.'

'It's not just that. Sweetheart, I'm the only man you've ever been with. What if you end up resenting me for that, wishing you'd been with other people?'

'Now, that's ridiculous. I thought you liked being my first lover.' He grinned. 'My one and only, right?' Treize didn't smile, didn't react at all. Shit, it was serious then, whatever dark thoughts he had floating about in his brain. Always a mistake leaving him alone; it just gave him time to brood.

Two years after they'd met, Treize certainly wasn't suicidal any more, but still prone to the occasional bout of depression, and sometimes the best way to get him out of it was pure shock therapy.

'So what's the deal? You want me to go out and screw someone else? What am I supposed to do? Pick up some stranger in a club and bring him home? Or pounce on Quat or Zechs or H –whoever?'

Aha, that damn well worked. The shadows in his eyes shifted suddenly, replaced by pure possession.

'I'd kill anyone who touched you,' Treize's arms tightened around him.

'Then stop with the bullshit. For God's sake, you're being an idiot. I've never wanted to be with anyone else,' Duo burrowed down deeper into Treize's embrace, always the safest place in the universe. 'Never wanted to do it with anyone at all, really, 'til I met you.' That was all too true. The way he and Trowa had grown up, sex wasn't about pleasure or love or sharing. It was something to be taken by force, or used as a bargaining tool. 'I saw Tro too many times, afterwards, when we were kids.'

He'd been so fucking lucky. _Unfucking_ lucky, really. Tro had kept him safe until he'd been old enough to look after himself.

'Oh, love,' Treize breathed, a mingled sound of love and pain and pity and compassion.

'It was a long time ago,' Duo said shortly. 'But I wanted you from the first ever minute I saw you.'

'Really?' Treize shook his head. 'That was hardly the most romantic setting.'

'Oh, that night in the gallery? When you looked up from the gun, and gave me the worst pick up line in the universe. _If you're a burglar, you've come at a rather awkward time_.' He mimicked Treize's accent and actually made him laugh. 'Well, that wasn't the first time I saw you. We professional art thieves believe in research; we'd been scoping out the place for weeks. Though I have to say I fell in love with your car first, when I saw it pull up outside the gallery.' He reached up and pressed a gentle kiss to Treize's lips. Odd, in a way, that they'd never talked about this before. Then again, maybe it wasn't. They almost never referred to that first night they'd met and that was sort of a shame because it meant they never discussed their first time.

'Then I saw this really hot guy getting out, and you turned back to get something out of the passenger seat and I got this great view of your legs and your ass.' He chuckled. 'Tro used to think I was drooling over the car, whenever you drove up. Now, I want you to tell me something. What brought all this on? It wasn't just something Freddie said, was it? Is this why you've been quiet this morning?'

Treize sighed, cradling Duo's face gently in both hands. 'My heart, listen. We've been engaged for over two weeks. You haven't once mentioned anything about the wedding. Yesterday, you didn't want to come and look at hotels with me; you never asked how I got on.'

Oh.

Shit.

'I'm sorry. Really. I just – I've never been to a wedding. I haven't a clue what it's supposed to be like, what we're supposed to do or have or anything.

'It's our wedding. We do exactly what we like. Tell me, how do you want it to be?'

'I did tell you. I want us to have the ceremony in the rose garden, under one of the arches, and I only want our best friends there, and then we can have lunch on the terrace, nothing too formal, and then I'm hoping you'll drag me upstairs for a couple of hours.'

'Oh, very definitely,' Treize agreed. 'That all sounds wonderful. And for the evening reception? I wasn't keen on any of the hotels I saw yesterday; they were all rather impersonal.'

'So? What are the alternatives?'

Treize gave him a rather smug little smile. 'How would you think about us having the party in the Palace?'

'The Royal Palace? Can we? I thought it was just for state functions and stuff.'

'And the occasional private ceremony, such as a wedding, if one knows the right people.' Treize gave him a smug little smile. 'Well?'

'Hell, yeah. That'd be _amazing_!' Duo felt a delighted smile curve his mouth. It was perfect. Utterly perfect. If Treize wanted a push-the-boat-out extravaganza, they might as well do it in style. 'How'd you think of it?'

'I didn't. Zechs suggested it last night.' Treize laughed at him. 'All fairytales should have a wedding in a palace. That's the venue sorted. Colour scheme? Flowers?'

'Duh. Roses. Red.'

'Duh indeed. Menu?'

'We can pick anything we like, right?' Duo licked his lips, thinking about it. 'That part's going to be fun!'

'Eclectic, certainly. Caviar on pizza.'

'Lobster burgers,' Duo countered. And I want to have a chocolate wedding cake. A really squishy, gooey, squelchy one that I can smear all over you?'

'Two cakes. One for you and one for our guests. You see? It's not so difficult.'

'Nah, it's sort of fun. What else do we need to decide?'

'Well, the honeymoon is already sorted. One last question; where are we going to spend the wedding night?'

'Ooh, decisions, decisions,' Duo laughed. 'That's a tough one. Maybe a quickie in one of the state bedrooms at the palace? Then we could drive straight to the cabin? That'd be sort of cool, driving there at night again. Like the very first night.'

'You,' Trieze told him, 'are developing an unexpectedly sentimental streak.'

'Must be contagious, then.' Duo laughed and then sobered. 'Treize, why didn't you tell me any of this before? If you were worried about me not being sure, you should've _said_ something.'

Treize nodded. 'It only occurred to me last night, and then you were so quiet on the drive here this morning, that I thought maybe you were … having second thoughts.'

'No.' Duo shook his head. 'Never. Only first thoughts. And listen, I don't want to keep having this conversation with you. I want to be with you. Always. Yeah, I was a bit freaked out at first, when you asked me but I'm OK now. I love you. Making love with you is the most perfect thing in the whole universe; hell, just being with you is the most perfect thing. There's no way I'd ever want anyone else. And I'm not some dumb kid; I am younger than you, but I didn't exactly have a normal life growing up. I was on the streets when I was seven looking after myself. I was winning knife fights on L2 when most kids are playing video games. I killed my first guy when I was only twelve and I loved every fucking minute of it 'cause he'd been hurting Tro. So don't tell me I'm too young or inexperienced or any of that crap, because I know what I want, and that's you, and always will be.'

'Message received and understood.' Treize took his mouth in a long, very thorough kiss. 'You want me, do you? Now?'

'_Always_, like I said.'

Treize was already slipping his lover's shirt buttons undone, nuzzling his way along Duo's collarbone, then further down. Moving so slowly it was an unbearable, exquisite agony.

'Treize, stop.'

The other man froze instantly; _stop_ wasn't a word that got much use between them. 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing.' Duo flipped backwards to sprawl over the couch, legs open, hands behind his neck. Surely the most vulnerable position in the world. 'I was sort of thinking I'd like you just to pound into me 'til I'm screaming for mercy.'

They didn't, actually, have that sort of sex very often. Treize, in certain moods, liked the edges lovemaking to be a little raw, although he was always supremely careful with Duo. But every so often he could be teased or seduced or goaded into losing control and sometimes he needed just to let go.

'Think you could do that?'

'God, yes.'


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: The GW characters don't belong to me.

Note ; Many thanks to KS for editing, and for everyone who is adventurous enough to keep reading…

Warnings: Ahem…maybe not for 3x4 fans….*ducks and runs for cover*

**Chapter 21:**

_In which the 3+4 equation becomes a little more complicated, following the introduction of a new factor. _

He should never have brought him, Trowa thought ruefully. Oh, Quatre was trying his polite best to be interested, but not quite hide managing to hide the fact that he was bored out of his skull. It had been a mistake to mention the rally in the first place, and the fact that he was taking part in one of the races.

Quatre had insisted that he wanted to see this part of his boyfriend's world and Quatre, Trowa was finding out, was extremely good at getting exactly what he wanted. Although he was probably regretting this. A muddy field on a cold, damp, spring day wasn't exactly the perfect environment for Quatre Raberba Winner. Trowa had caught him casting rueful glances at his shoes, and he'd managed to get mud splashed on his pink – 'crushed raspberry', apparently – sweater.

'We can go if you like,' he offered, and Quatre smiled up at him. 'I know this isn't your thing.'

'We can't. I have to introduce Heero and Zechs, remember? Anyway, your race is on soon, isn't it? I really want to see you in action.'

'I could just take you home, if that's what you want.'

The blond's cheeks were a sudden, blazing scarlet but he gave Trowa another lovely smile.

'Or we could do both. Race first and then…..action?'

'Sounds like a plan,' Trowa agreed, and then realised he'd lost all of his boyfriend's attention.

Instead, he was beaming – that radiant smile that Trowa liked to think belonged to him – at a total stranger.

Except he wasn't really a stranger; the Chinese man walking up to them had to be Wufei.

Trowa had imagined some bespectacled, scholarly type, probably wearing one of those tweed jackets that professors wore in the movies. Wufei was hot. Hot in capital letters with exclamation marks after. It didn't hurt that he was wearing worn, tight jeans and a beat-up leather jacket.

Competition, in other words.

He stepped a little closer to Quatre, and caught Wufei's amused dark eyes noting the gesture. This was stupid. Quatre was with _him_; he wasn't the sort to cheat and Trowa wasn't going to get into some sort of territorial pissing contest over him.

There was still the shadow of a smile of the Chinese man's lips when he leaned over to shake Trowa's hand.

'You must be Trowa. Hello, Quatre. It's nice to see you again.'

'Isn't it?' Quatre asked happily, apparently oblivious to any awkwardness. 'You never said you were going to be here.'

'It was a sudden decision. Heero mentioned he was meeting you here and I thought it might be fun to come along. I've entered for the 3.30 cross country race.'

'That's the one you're in, isn't it Trowa?' Quatre asked cheerfully. 'How exciting! Wufei, where's Heero? I'm supposed to be introducing him to Zechs.'

'He just stopped to look at one of the bikes. Oh, here he is.'

Heero, Trowa decided, wasn't the sort of guy you'd kick out of bed for farting either. Blue eyes, great body, messy hair that looked like he'd just tumbled out of bed. Pity he was straight.

'It's so lovely to meet you again, Heero,' Quatre sounded like all his dreams had suddenly come true.

'He's just got engaged, right?' Trowa asked. 'To a girl?' Heero, he thought, was looking far too happy to have a cute blond guy interested in him.

Wufei nodded. And two sets of eyes settled grimly on Quatre and his new friend. Quatre was jabbering something about how he and his sisters had known this Relena person for years, and some painting, and Heero was lapping up the attention.

'This might be a stupid question but why is your straight, engaged friend cruising my boyfriend?'

'It's not a stupid question at all,' Wufei responded quietly.

Quatre finally turned back to them, eyes shining.

'Heero can't stay long, so I'm just going to take him to find Zechs. I'll be back in a minute. Good luck, both of you!'

He blew Trowa a discreet kiss, and whirled off, Heero in tow.

'I think we've been dismissed,' Chang said, sounding rather amused about the fact. 'Well, we'd probably get to the starting line.'

It started to rain again as they walked; the sort of sudden downpour you got in Sanque, before Summer finally arrived.

'This should make the course a little more challenging,' Chang decided.

'More muddy anyway,' Trowa replied. He wasn't much good at small talk; he wasn't particularly interested in talking to this guy. 'Not a bad thing; should weed out some of the amateurs.'

It did too; by the time they got to the starting line and collected their bikes, there were only a dozen or so other entrants. The guys who were only doing this to impress their girlfriends or whatever had obviously pulled out. He was surprised Chang hadn't, actually.

He'd met these sorts of guys before – executives who wanted to have a tough, macho hobby away from their nice office so they could use it as a chat up line. The bike was just the sort Trowa had guessed he'd have. A nice, shiny model that had probably been bought straight off the shop floor, on the recommendation of some assistant with an eye to commission.

Jerk.

Trowa nodded to a few people he knew vaguely; if Duo had been there, he would have been dragged along into socialising. Alone, he didn't bother.

'Do you fancy a small wager?' Wufei asked, appearing on his right side. 'Just the two of us.'

'Why not?' It wasn't like he'd lose. The other bike looked like it had never been ridden off road in its life. 'How much?'

'I wasn't thinking of money. Perhaps something we both want?' He grinned, revving his engine. Show off. 'Or someone.'

'He's not a possession to be won. Besides,' Trowa smirked over at him. 'I already have him.'

'If he's not a possession, then he can't be _had_ either,' Wufei retorted.

Trowa dropped one eyelid in a deliberate wink. 'Oh, I assure you that he can. Not that you'll ever know anything about that.'

The Chinese man's growled response was drowned by the starter's pistol; by the firing of engines around them.

Wufei took off like he'd been shot out of a canon, which was utterly insane given the terrain. The trail he'd chosen was uphill; treacherous given the mud underfoot. Under wheel, Trowa thought with a grin. The other competitors had taken the safe route – a twisting path up the mountainside, as opposed to driving straight up a precipice.

Black tendrils of hair whipped under Chang's helmet as he turned around to call over one shoulder. 'Should I slow down for you?'

Asshole; Trowa was grinning as he fired straight up the slope. Fuck, he hadn't felt like this, on a bike, since Duo had stopped competing. It had always been neck or nothing between them.

He forged ahead just as they reached the top, catching a glimpse of the other man's face in a blaze of concentration, and raised two fingers casually as he drove past.

'Want me to wait?'

'Screw you!' Chang yelled over the beating rain, coming up fast.

_In your dreams_, Trowa thought, swerving around a fallen tree, and then swivelling around. 'Be careful at this bit. The ground's like soup to the right.'

'Thanks.' Chang negotiated it expertly and swung to a halt. 'I think we've gone off course, somehow. I don't see any flags.'

'You only like driving on nice safely laid out courses?'

'Not in the least.' He tilted his helmet back, lifting his face to the rain. 'What do you think; a race between the two of us? Back to the starting line.'

Trowa nodded. 'And the prize?'

'To be decided by the winner?'

'Which will be me,' Trowa shot back.

'Talk's cheap, Barton.' Wufei gunned past him, spinning his wheels so that mud spattered all over Trowa.

_Maniac. _

'You're going to pay for that!'

The next few minutes were frantic, frenetic, more fun than he'd had in ages; just the two of them swinging their machines through the trees, whipping past lower branches and skidding over rivulets of gushing water.

Trowa was actually in the lead when the accident happened; his own fault entirely. He just hadn't been able to resist turning around, and the bike just somersaulted over something and for a minute he was flying and then smacking straight into the ground.

'Trowa! Are you all right?'

'Fuck.' He dragged himself up. 'What the hell happened?'

'Your rear wheel caught on an exposed tree root,' Wufei explained. 'Are you sure you're not hurt?'

Trowa ran both hands over himself; a few sore places, unsurprisingly, but nothing that refused to move, or hurt too badly. 'I'm fine.' He flashed a quick grin. 'Nothing broken. Just a bit battered.'

'And your bike?'

Duo would have asked that too.

'I think I'll be walking back,' Trowa said ruefully. His bike was going to need a new back wheel, at the very least. 'Can you ride back and get someone to pick me up? The stewards have maintenance trucks.'

Chang shook his head. 'I can't leave you here in this downpour to get pneumonia.' He hopped on to his own bike and patted the saddle behind him. ''I'll give you a lift.'

He'd never ridden double before with anyone who wasn't Duo. So many things he'd only ever done with Duo, if he thought about it. It felt odd putting his arms around Chang's waist, but there wasn't anything else to hold on to, and even though he was taking it easy, with his passenger, the trail was still rough enough to need some sort of support.

'Do you want to go to the medical tent?' Chang asked as they bumped back to the car park.

Trowa shook his head. 'I've got a kit in my truck. It's just scrapes and bruises.'

'Which way?'

He actually grinned, the bastard, when he saw Trowa's truck. OK, maybe it wasn't the world's snazziest vehicle but it went all right.

'Do you actually drive Quatre around in that?'

'He's never complained.' Trowa opened the cab, and rummaged in the glove compartment for the first aid box. 'I hear you took him whizzing around on a motorbike. And broke into the National Museum.'

'I did not,' Wufei said hastily.

'Bullshit,' Trowa snapped. 'There's no way employees are allowed to swan in and out at night. I can't believe even Quatre fell for that one. And from what he says, you were very careful to time your visit around the security guards' inspections.'

'I wonder how on earth you know that particular piece of information,' Wufei mused. 'Here, give me that. You should put some antiseptic on those cuts.'

'I know someone who works security there. And you don't need to hang around. I can do this by myself.'

'I'm sure you can.' Wufei rolled up his right sleeve, and winced. 'You'll need to keep this one clean. It's a pretty deep cut.'

'Thanks; I'd never have figured that out myself. So do you take all your dates on breaking and entering parties?'

'Only the ones I really want to impress.'

Trowa snorted. 'You don't seem like you have any issues in the self-esteem department.'

'I don't, usually. What did you do for your first date?'

'Why d'you want to know? If you're so interested in Quatre, why did you give him up so easily?'

Wufei smiled. 'Who says I've given up? I've probably seen more of him in the past week than you have.'

'I doubt that. He's not the sort to cheat on someone.'

Wufei threw back his head and laughed. 'I wasn't talking about sex.'

'Yeah, sure. You don't want to sleep with him; you just want a nice little companion to escort to art galleries and tea shops.'

'Of course I want to have sex with him,' Wufei said firmly. 'But I can wait.'

Trowa nodded. 'Right. So tell me, do you have some sort of master plan to get him back?'

'I haven't actually needed one, to date. You've been doing quite a good job of throwing him at me. Inadvertently, of course. But I have been reaping the benefits.'

'Yeah, sure. You got to drink tea with him a couple of times. I'm not worried about that. I trust him; he's a principled guy.'

'I imagine that's why we both like him so much.' Wufei wound a length of gauze around his wrist. 'Well, shall we say, one of the reasons? Of course, in my experience, Quatre's principles extend as far as breaking up with one person before moving on to the next. I'm not worried either.'

'Very sure of yourself, aren't you?'

'Very.' Wufei grinned at him. 'Are you?'

'He's mine.'

'For now.'

'Is that a challenge?'

'A ….warning. I plan to get him back. I tend to be rather good at getting what I want.'

'He's not up for grabs.'

'Oh, Trowa, of course he is.' Those white teeth flashed again; either superb genetics or an obscenely expensive dentist. 'It's rather interesting to meet the competition. I can understand what he sees in you.'

'And what's that?' Trowa tossed his forelock back.

'I'm sure you're well aware. You know, you're nothing like I'd imagined.'

'Do I want to know what that was like?'

'Probably not. He has good taste.'

'Are you hitting on me?' Trowa asked bluntly. 'Is this part of your plan; seduce me and then tell Quatre what happened?'

'I hardly think Quatre would want either of us in those circumstances, do you? I'm not the sort to kiss and tell.'

'So you are hitting on me?'

'Perhaps.' He flicked Trowa one of those infuriatingly enigmatic little smiles. Probably thought he looked like the Mona Lisa or something. It was damn annoying. Sort of sexy though; the way his lips parted a fraction, just enough to show the tip of a pink tongue. He'd be interesting to kiss. Just to see if it would wipe that Cheshire Cat smugness off his face.

'Sorry, but I'm not the sort to cheat on my partner. Which you obviously are.'

That comment produced a scowl. 'Certainly not. Perhaps I should point out that I'm the one who's currently single.'

'Hardly surprising, given your personality.'

Wufei burst out laughing. 'Tell me, are you permanently grouchy or is it just me? I'm surprised Quatre puts up with you.'

'Quatre gets plenty of compensation.'

'Hmm. I imagine Quatre does.' He rolled up Trowa's other sleeve and winced. 'All right. This is going to sting for a second.'

'Ouch.' Trowa said it obligingly, just to make him laugh, liking the way those black eyes shone when he was amused about something.

God, this was stupid. He shouldn't even be talking to this guy, let alone ….talking like they were friends. Like he might have talked to Duo. Quatre would probably have whisked him off to the first aid tent and charmed the doctor into seeing him straightaway. Or had him airlifted to the nearest private clinic.

'You done yet?'

'Almost.' Wufei placed a small plaster neatly over the scrape and looked up. 'I'll just clean up your face a little bit.'

'It's fine.'

'Stop being so stubborn. Quatre will have a conniption if I let you go back to him covered in blood.' One hand pushed Trowa's hair off his forehead.

'You're not responsible for me.'

'If I hadn't goaded you, none of this would have happened.' Those long fingers traced his jaw-line, very delicately. 'You could have been seriously hurt.'

'No guilt trips, Chang. You didn't force me to do anything. And I had fun.'

'Me too,' Wufei responded softly. 'Do you normally compete in these sorts of races?'

'I used to, with a friend. Then his partner wanted him to give it up. I really only came today because Quatre suggested it. I bet he's sorry.'

'It doesn't really seem like his sort of thing,' Wufei agreed. 'What are you planning for your next outing; a monster truck rally?'

Trowa grinned at the idea of it. 'God, can you see him at something like that? What are you planning, incidentally? Take him to Paris so you can break into the Louvre?'

'Perhaps. I've been working there for the past few years. I do actually know their security systems. Are you going to tell him what I did?'

'Nah. It was sort of cool. I owe you actually; otherwise, he'd have wanted me to take him to the damn exhibition.'

'You don't like art?'

'Not when I have to queue for hours to get to see it, and then stand in a crowded gallery.'

He took out another antiseptic wipe, and wiped Trowa's face. 'Does that hurt?'

'A bit.'

'Sorry. I don't know if this should be stitched.' He leaned in, peering at the scrape in Trowa's left cheek. 'It's still bleeding.'

He was close enough for Trowa to feel warm breath whispering across his skin. Those dark eyelashes curled, ever so slightly, at the tips, the way Duo's did. There were tiny, metallic flecks in the midnight darkness of his eyes; copper and gold and bronze. Like stars.

'It's fine.'

'At least let me kiss it better for you.'

They were close enough that Chang just had to lean in another couple of inches, and cant his head slightly, and that mouth was moving against his.

There was the weirdest, weirdest sense that this had all happened before, or maybe just had been planned out by some part of his brain. The kiss wasn't strange; it felt like something they'd done before.

It felt like the first time he'd kissed Duo. Not _déjà vu,_ but a memory. It had been either very late or very early. They'd stayed up late in some fleapit motel after a job, watching a dumb Hollywood heist movie, and picking up the holes in the plot, with a Picasso propped against the bedroom door.

It was something he'd wanted to do for years, quite literally, and the sudden, sweet inevitability of it had taken his breath away. Duo had leaned across him to get another beer, and at the same time tilted his to head to watch what was happening on screen and that had been that.

Three months later, he'd met Treize.

Chang's eyes were closed, the lashes fluttering very slightly, and a faint rose coloured bloom on his cheeks.

Oh shit.

'Get the _fuck_ out of my truck!'

'Trowa…'

'I _said_, get out.' Trowa leaned across him, wrenching the door open, half shoving the other man out.

Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: Not mine. None of them…

Note: Many many thanks to KS for editing, and to all the kind people who have reviewed.

**Chapter 22:**

_In which Wufei ponders the mysteries of attraction to two very different people…._

Shyness had never been one of Chang Wufei's most common characteristics.

He'd been a precocious, much loved small boy who'd grown up surrounded by an enormous, indulgent family. Intelligence and ambition had gained him a Doctorate in Art History and two years working in Paris for one of the world's most famous galleries. It had also garnered him plenty of male attention. None of the relationships had lasted particularly long, but they had been fun while they had lasted, and he had managed to stay friends with several exes.

He'd always assumed, however - because he was, deep down, a romantic – that at some point he'd meet his soul-mate.

Nowhere in any of that, was there any reason for shyness.

And then he'd seen a blond dancing at a nightclub and that, quite simply, had been that.

It had never occurred to him for one second that the other man – the tall one with long blond hair – hadn't been _his_ blond's partner. They'd been dancing far too closely for just friends and they'd even kissed briefly on the lips at one point.

The whole episode had sent Wufei spiralling into a wholly uncharacteristic bout of self doubt and depression.

He'd met the perfect person, Mr. Perfect, as Heero had dubbed him, and that person was with somebody else.

At first, of course, it had been pure lust. The first time he'd seen Quatre, Quatre dancing, he hadn't been able to keep his eyes off him, and had forced himself to write it off as a purely physical reaction to a glowingly beautiful young man.

Then he'd started seeing Quatre on the train.

He'd heard little snatches of conversation as the blond sat on the train, so tantalisingly close and usually glued to his 'phone. He always seemed to be rushing off somewhere, always late, always laughingly apologetic as he rang people to say he was just on his way.

Every time he'd seen his Mr. Perfect, he'd manage to amass another detail or two. He liked Lewis Carroll; he smiled like an angel; he seemed to be biologically linked to his BlackBerry; he had superb dress sense and obviously loved clothes.

Then there'd been the date. The date that had been utterly perfect and the certainty that Mr. Quatre Winner, Mr Perfect in the flesh, was quite undoubtedly The One.

And none of it had meant anything, because a few days later Quatre had told him that there was someone else.

Even then, he'd been able to convince himself that this other relationship wouldn't last. Quatre had let slip a few things about Trowa. He was an idiot, for a start. Someone like Quatre deserved constant attention; instead, the adorable little blond seemed to be spending most evenings alone, or with one or other of his sisters or his multitude of friends.

Somewhere, over the past few days, he'd built up a mental picture of what Barton would be like. A friend of a friend, Quatre had told him, and the friend had set them up in the first place.

That was so Quatre, not wanting to disappoint someone. He was ridiculously soft-hearted, really. People probably took advantage of that.

His mental vision of Trowa comprised of a lonely, older man, living alone, and too stupid to realise what a treasure had fallen into his arms. Not a mistake Wufei would ever make, when he got Quatre back.

All of that, of course, was before he'd actually met Trowa.

He'd goaded the tall man into the race, never expecting that they'd end up having so much sheer _fun. _ Wufei had been brought up to behave with discipline and dignity at all times, particularly in public. His job, of course, demanded a certain level of decorum. With Heero, in heated sparring sessions or bike rides, he'd let go of all that, and then he'd done it with Barton.

_Done it_ in every sense of the word, he thought ruefully. Well, not exactly. It had only been a kiss. Only. But, damn, he'd felt so _alive_ out there; just the two of them challenging each other, and then that kiss.

Barton had been utterly, compellingly furious. Wufei had been pretty much thrown out of the truck with a curt warning to stay away from him in the future.

It had been a mistake. Of course. Gods, he'd never meant it to happen; not Quatre's partner of all people in the universe. It was facile to claim that it had _just happened_, a patently ridiculous excuse, but it had. There hadn't, he thought, been any particular thought processes at work, but Trowa had been there, so close, and he still wasn't sure which of them had made the first move.

He'd never kissed Quatre; just a brief kiss on the cheek when he dropped him home, after their date.

There was on sign of Heero in the bar, but Quatre was at the centre of a large group. As usual, he was sparkling like sunlight on spun gold, but it seemed a little contrived today. The smile seemed more fixed than normal and his eyes weren't that aquamarine colour they took on when he was laughing.

Auto-sparkle, Wufei decided.

When he saw Wufei, he said something to his friends that had them all falling about the place laughing and slipped away.

The smile he gave Wufei was real.

'Don't you ever get tired? Of being such a social butterfly?'

'Sometimes. Is it time for your race yet? Where's Trowa?'

'The race is over.'

'What? Zechs said they'd have to postpone it because of the weather. Did I really miss it? Who won?'

Wufei reddened slightly. He supposed he had, officially; at least, he'd won the private race between himself and Trowa. And claimed the prize.

'I don't think anyone did. It was a bit of a fiasco. Trowa and I went off the course in the rain and his bike had an accident.'

'Is he all right? Where is he?'

'He's fine. Really. He just had a few scrapes and bruises. He's gone to get his bike; it was damaged and we had to leave it out there on the course. I drove him back here.'

Stop babbling, Chang.

'Thank you for looking after him,' Quatre said gently.

'That's all right.' They were smiling at each other, suddenly. 'Can I get you a drink?'

He'd asked Quatre that question before, the first night they'd spoken to each other. Trowa wasn't here now, and Quatre nodded.

'That would be lovely. Just orange juice; I'm driving. And a straw, please. A blue one.'

'Of course,' Wufei nodded. 'You want me to ask for a soft drink, complete with straw in a bar full of leather-clad bikers. Would you like a cherry or a paper umbrella as well? If I'm to be beaten up, it may as well be for something big.'

'Oh, I'm sure you can take care of yourself.' Quare twinkled up at him. 'And it could be worse. At least I didn't ask for a pink straw!'

The rain had finally eased off when Wufei came back with their drinks; but the skies were still ominous enough to keep most of the other drinkers indoors. They found a table on the terrace outside and had the place to themselves.

'Did you have a nice day yesterday?'

Quatre shrugged, taking a gulp of his drink. 'Some of it was fun. I hardly got to see Trowa at all though. He was working for most of the day and when he came back he had to see to his million pets, and then get his bike ready for today.' He gave another little shrug.

God, Trowa had to be clinically insane. He'd had Quatre Winner to himself for a whole day, and he spent it tinkering with a machine. Madness.

'I like the biker look, by the way.' He liked it a lot. Dark jeans that fitted just perfectly to his slender legs, and a teal-coloured jacket in such fine leather it looked like silk. The clothes an Armani model might wear to advertise the latest model of Harley.

'Really?' Quatre had, obviously, to be more than used to compliments but he still looked pleased. 'Thank you. I don't think Trowa even noticed. He never said anything.'

'Trowa's an idiot, then.' That won him another little smile. 'How are things?'

'Oh, I don't know. It's always difficult at the start of a relationship, isn't it? When you're still getting to know one another.'

'I think that's meant to be the fun part,' Wufei offered.

Quatre sniffed, twirling his tongue around his straw. Oh, Gods. 'It usually is, yes. Especially if the other person is remotely interested in you, or willing to share even the tiniest piece of information about himself.'

'Ah.'

He was, Wufei reminded himself sternly, a man of strict morals and possessed of a stringent code of honour. He had already done enough damage for one day, to this couple, without taking Quatre in his arms and kissing him the way he needed to be kissed.

'It takes time, sometimes,' he said slowly. 'Some people aren't all that comfortable with sharing confidences.'

'Confidences, yes. I do understand that. But he doesn't like talking about anything remotely personal. If he doesn't trust me even the slightest, I don't know why he wants to be with me in the first place. I don't even know if it's serious for him.'

'If it isn't, then he's a fool.'

One corner of Quatre's mouth curved up, kissably. 'You just called him an idiot. What did you think of him?'

An excellent question.

Passionate and darkly intense and grouchy and sexy as original sin. All wrapped up in _that_ body and with those amazing green, gold-washed eyes. There had even been a scattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose that just begged to be kissed.

Then he realised he hadn't answered the question and that Quatre was looking at him quizzically, head canted to one side. 'Really? I didn't think he'd be your type.'

'Likewise.' Wufei slanted an eyebrow upwards. 'I can….certainly see the attraction though. Anyone could. Is it so obvious I was attracted?'

'I can …sometimes…feel things,' Quatre said, unusually tentative for him. 'Other people's feelings, emotions.'

'Empathy. Really?'

'Something like that. Does it bother you?'

'Why should it? I don't have anything to hide.'

Not true, entirely, but if Quatre couldn't read minds, then he couldn't know about the kiss, and Wufei had already confessed the attraction was there.

Quatre's face lit up. 'Thank you. It bothers some people.'

'Quatre.' Wufei put one hand over his. 'The only thing that could possibly _bother_ me about you is that someone else got you first. I am rather curious. How does it work? Can you control it at all? Or do you mind talking about it?'

'No, I don't mind. It's hard to explain. Sometimes, I just _know_ things. I know how a friend of mine feels about his partner and how terribly depressed he'd been before they met. It's like…you know sometimes you're on the 'phone and it's a bad line, and almost you can hear someone in the background, like an echo but you don't know if it's just you imagining it, or if it really is someone else or if there's a problem with your friend's phone. It's rather like that. I'm hardly ever really sure if I'm actually picking up on other people's emotions, or just imagining them, or whether I'm trying to convince myself about something. It's not very reliable.'

'But sometimes you just know?'

Quatre nodded. 'It's very rare, really. Sometimes, it doesn't happen for months and months and I think maybe I'd only ever imagined it.'

'And with Trowa?'

'I can feel things. Sometimes.' Those long lashes fluttered over his eyes, as he glanced down at his hands, linked around his glass. When he looked up, the smile was determinedly in place. 'You know, my mother always says that I was brought up with so many sisters that I developed feminine intuition by osmosis.'

Wufei smiled obligingly. 'Does Trowa know?'

'I haven't told him, no. Not yet.' He took a gulp of his juice, and followed it up with a definite subject change. 'Have you seen Heero and Zechs since you got back? Zechs wanted to take some photos of Heero; they went off to find somewhere quiet.'

'Really? Why does he need to photograph Heero? I thought the portrait was just supposed to be of Relena.'

'No, I think it's of them both.' Quatre shrugged, looking up and his face suddenly glowed. 'There's Trowa!'

It was odd, seeing the two of them together; the blond all sparkly and solicitous, and Trowa brushing off his concern but his expression slightly softened whenever he looked at his boyfriend.. He hadn't bothered to change out of his wet clothes; Quatre was exclaiming over his torn, muddy jacket and reaching up a hand to touch the seal-sleek hair plastered to his skull, and Trowa was letting him fuss. He ignored Wufei completely.

Fortunately, Zechs Merquise turned up before Quatre had time to notice. He wrapped Quatre in a hug that made Wufei want to hit him, and, looking at Trowa's expression, the other man apparently felt the same way.

'Trowa,' Zechs finally let Quatre go and grinned. 'Congratulations. You haven't just turned our Quatre into a biker babe, you actually managed to keep him at home on a Saturday night when he'd been invited to a party. I think that must be a world record.'

'Don't be silly, Zechs,' Quatre said briskly. 'Now, do I don't think you've met Wufei, have you?'

The tall man – Wufei had decided he looked like a Viking god the first time he'd seen him, and the description still fit perfectly – swivelled around. 'Not properly, no.' He took Wufei's hand in his. 'A pleasure. Now, why in God's name _don't_ I know you? Where have you been hiding yourself?'

'I've been living in France for the last couple of years,' Wufei explained.

'Zechs has been to a couple of your lectures at the gallery,' Quatre chipped in happily. 'And Wufei adores your paintings, Zechs. You know, you really should paint him.'

Oh, for Gods' sake. Now he was trying to match-make.

'I would….adore to. Let's see.' His fingers were cold as they brushed Wufei's skin, tilting his chin slightly upwards. 'Oh, yes. Will you sit for me? Please?'

He heard someone – Trowa – snicker quietly, and Quatre was saying what a wonderful idea that was.

Zechs was charming and graceful and handsome and one of Wufei's favourite modern artists and didn't seem to have the faintest idea that he was the wrong blond. Wufei responded mechanically to all comments – he knew Wufei's friend Meiran, he was a friend of Heero's fiancée Relena, while frantically eavesdropping on the other two.

'If you wanted to go out last night, then you should have just said,' Trowa was saying.

'If I'd wanted to go out, then I would have,' Quatre shot back, a little edge of impatience in his voice that Wufei hadn't heard before. 'But I didn't. What's wrong? I'm sorry I missed seeing your race, honestly.'

Trowa snorted, and Wufei shook his head slightly, which Zechs took for a little piece of charming modesty. He'd been paying Wufei the most ridiculously extravagant compliments.

'You seemed to have your hands full with Heero, the last time I saw you.'

'Oh, Trowa!' Quatre bubbled happily. 'Are you _jealous_?' He didn't sound terribly put out; if anything, he sounded like he rather liked the idea of it.

'Maybe.'

'But it's so absurd. I promise you, I'm not the one Heero's interested in.' He trilled with laughter.

Trowa snorted. 'You could have fooled me. Zechs is gay. And he was practically salivating over you when he walked in.'

'Well, he always does that. He wants me to pose for a painting. A nude painting; he's been pestering me for weeks.'

'You're not doing it!'

'Ooh!' Quatre gave him a sneaky little glance through his eyelashes and took his arm. 'Are you actually forbidding me to do something? That's so masterful!'

'I'd forbid you to flirt with other guys in public if I thought it would do any good.'

'It probably wouldn't,' Quatre said thoughtfully, squeezing his arm. 'I'm really sorry I didn't see your race.'

'Not much to see, except me falling on my ass in the mud.' Trowa dragged a hand through his wet hair. 'Would you mind if we headed off? I'm soaked.'

'Oh, poor Trowa. Of course we can go. I just need to say goodbye to everyone.'

'Fine.' Trowa sounded resigned to a good hour of Quatre making farewells. 'I'd really appreciate it if you could do that without making any sort of physical contact.'

'I'll try.' Quatre lowered his voice; Wufei, fortunately had excellent hearing. 'Maybe I could restrain myself if I could be sure of physical contact once we get home?'

'That's it,' Trowa was on his feet suddenly, looming over Quatre and hauling him up. 'Come on, you.' Wufei abruptly revised his impression that Trowa hadn't a clue how to handle his boyfriend. 'Gentlemen, we're leaving. Enjoy the rest of the day.'

'Mmm.' Zechs took a long swallow of his drink and smiled over at Wufei. 'He's delicious when he goes all dominant, isn't he? Wednesday, then?'

'I'm sorry. Wednesday what?'

'Dinner. I'll collect you.' He was on his feet suddenly and Wufei was enveloped in a cloud of swirling blond hair as Zechs swooped down to drop a quick kiss on his cheek. 'I still want to paint you, by the way. Perhaps for dessert?'

Wufei was still staring morosely into the depths of his drink when Heero finally wandered back.

'Where did you get to?'

'I had to make some calls. Why are you staring at your beer like that? Is it doing something unusual?'

'This whole damn day is unusual. People keep kissing me.'

'Well, that's good, isn't it?' Heero pulled up a chair and sat down, signalling a waiter. 'Who kissed you? Quatre?'

'Trowa.'

'I don't know who Trowa is. Do you think they have any kind of sports drinks here? Or would it be all right for me to have one beer if I'm driving?'

'Heero,' Wufei peered closely at his friend; Heero wasn't normally this….giddy. 'Are you all right? Trowa is Quatre's boyfriend. And speaking of Quatre, why were you all over him earlier?'

'Was I?' Heero leaned over to take a gulp of Wufei's drink. 'I've been dying to meet the person you've been raving about. He's perfect for you, by the way; I can understand what you see in him. And I do realise he's off limits.' He frowned suddenly. 'What do you mean, _Trowa_ kissed you? Don't you mean Quatre? He's the one you like.'

'Well, apparently, I like them both,' Wufei said glumly. 'And Zechs Merquise just asked me out for dinner. Well, actually he told me.' Or maybe he had agreed; he hadn't really been paying any attention to what Zechs had been saying, too caught up in watching Trowa and Quatre.

He gave his head a vigorous shake; Gods, he had to find some way to exorcise that scene.. The image of the two of them leaving the bar was apparently superimposed on his corneas; Trowa with his head slightly bent to listen to whatever the blond was saying, and Quatre talking animatedly. They'd looked so right together.

Both so right for him in their very different ways. Trowa's masculinity was every bit as attractive as Quatre' s adorable affectedness.


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gundam Wing and make no profit from writing.

Many thanks to KS for editing, and to Alonzo who not only consented to make a cameo appearance but a very OOC one as well.

**Chapter 23:**

_In which Trowa receives an unexpected, unwelcome visitor, who refuses to leave….._

It was only a cold, Trowa told himself, dragging his aching carcase back to the house after feeding the animals. It was stupid; he'd suffered pretty much every injury known to man, but nothing ever ached quite so much as the onset of a bad cold or the 'flu. His head was pounding, his body temperature had soared, and his nose was dripping.

Ugh.

He'd have a coffee, take a couple of painkillers and then take the dogs for their morning run before cleaning out the kennels. Cleo nudged his hand with her nose, sensing something was wrong and wanting to give comfort, and the greyhound, Caroline, pressed closer to his leg.

Who needed people when you had animals? If only Cleo had opposable thumbs, she'd be perfect.

'It's OK, girls. Just a bit of a sniffle. We'll go out in a few minutes, OK?'

The dogs exploded into barking just before someone rang the doorbell. Odd; he hadn't heard a car and it wasn't like anyone would walk all the way up to the house.

He certainly wasn't expecting to see Chang Wufei standing on his doorstep. 'You look like hell,' the Chinese man said bluntly.

It was the truth, Trowa supposed, mopping his streaming nose. 'What do you want?'

'We need to talk about yesterday.'

'We have nothing to talk about.'

'Quatre,' Wufei specified. 'Us.'

'Nothing,' Trowa repeated, a bit more forcefully. Shit. He seriously didn't need this guy turning up in his life. He made a move like he was planning to slam the door in Wufei's face, then gave up and slumped against the frame instead. If the guy had made his way up here, he probably wouldn't just go away. 'There's no us.'

'We kissed.'

Trowa grimaced. 'You kissed me.'

'I seem to remember you taking a more active part in the proceedings than that. I don't remember you complaining at the time.' Those onyx-dark eyes narrowed, studying him. 'What's the matter with you?'

'Nothing. I have a bit of a cold.'

Wufei leaned over, resting a hand on the other man's forehead.

'Don't touch me.'

Wufei sniffed. 'I'm not that desperate that I'm going to hit on someone who's leaking from practically every facial orifice. I think you should probably sit down before you fall down. Aren't you going to invite me in?'

Trowa shrugged, heading back inside. 'What, you're a vampire who can't come in unless I invite you?'

'Of course not.' God, the man was totally impervious to hints. Or insults. Trowa slumped on the couch and Wufei sat on the opposite end. Probably worried about catching whatever infection Trowa had. Good. Serve him right. 'You've probably caught whatever I've got already. It's been coming on for a couple of days. I felt a bit woozy on Sunday, actually. That's probably why you had that effect on me.' Fuck. That wasn't remotely true, unfortunately. But it was as good a lie as any.

Wufei smirked at him. 'Oh no. I think that was all me.'

'You know, that smug attitude of yours isn't a very attractive quality.'

'It's self confidence. I've been told it's very attractive, actually.'

'Is that what Quatre thinks?'

'Oh, Quatre thinks I have all sorts of attractive qualities. Now, why isn't he here wiping your fevered brow and sprinkling lavender water on your pillow before tucking you into bed?'

Trowa made a face. 'God, he'd just love that. I think you just answered your own question. Anyway, he had meetings lined up all day.'

'You don't think he'd have cancelled for you?'

'No reason why he should have his day messed up because I've got a cold.'

'Hmm. A bad case of 'flu, I'd say.' Wufei sat back, apparently at perfect, graceful ease and held out one hand for Cleo to sniff. 'You just need to rest for a day or so, and take plenty of liquids.'

'I know that,' Trowa snapped, not appreciating the other man's lecturing tone.

'Do you really?' One dark eyebrow quirked. God, it irritated the hell out of him when Treize did that; it was sort of sexy on Wufei. 'It doesn't look like it. Why don't you put your feet up and I'll get you something to drink?'

'No.' Trowa glared at him, flicking his hair back so Wufei could get blasted by both eyes at once. That usually worked. 'You can't just barge into my house and start bossing me around like that.'

'I know I shouldn't, probably, but I have.'

God, he was annoying. Every bit as persistent as Duo when he was set on something. At least Quatre knew when to back off. Sometimes, anyway. Oh, fuck, no. He was not going to start comparing those two. Quatre was his boyfriend. Irritating as hell sometimes, but still.

Wufei was just…..the guy who'd kissed him senseless. And who was currently clattering about in his kitchen. Asshole. Although it was sort of nice to be able just to sit back and rest for a minute.

Trowa let his eyes close, just for a second, and when he opened them Chang was standing in front of him, tray in hand. It smelt disgusting; the guy could at least have made coffee instead of that boiling water with bits of twig floating in it. 'I don't drink that stuff. It's Quatre's.'

Wufei put down the tray, moving the little jug of bluebells Trowa had picked for Quatre. They were already starting to wilt. 'I'm sure he won't object. You need to increase your fluid intake. Judging by the empty cups in the sink, you've already had more than enough caffeine. Just drink it, Trowa.'

'I don't like being bossed around.'

'Then you're with the wrong man.'

Trowa glared at him, taking a grudging sip. It wasn't all that bad, surprisingly. There was plenty of honey stirred in, and grated ginger.

'It should soothe your throat a little,' Wufei said quietly.

'How did you know I had a sore throat?'

'Your voice. I couldn't find any cough syrup but this will do. And camomile can be good for headaches.'

'You a doctor on the side or something?' Trowa took another swallow, resenting the fact that it was actually helping.

'I get migraines, sometimes, if I've been reading for too long without my glasses. I get that little frown there too.' He placed one finger, very gently, between Trowa's eyebrows. 'Plus you don't have anything so common as cough medicine but you have prescription medication for migraines. I usually find those pills are more effective if you actually break the seal on the bottle and take them.'

'You went through my fucking kitchen cabinets?' Trowa glared up at him. 'You actually make a practice out of forcing your way into people's houses and snooping around?'

'I'm a historian. It's practically in my job description.'

'Well you can get out of my house.' It might have been a stronger declaration if he hadn't had a coughing fit midway through the sentence. 'I mean it, Chang. Get the hell out.'

There was the tiniest flicker of hesitation in Wufei's eyes. 'I'm sorry. I'd rather not leave you here alone. Do you have a friend you can call?'

'I already did. He'll be here this afternoon.' Whenever Treize decided he'd spent enough time hanging around his family.

Wufei gave him another of those aggravating smirks. 'I can't leave you here like this. You can put up with me or I'll call Quatre. Your choice.'

'Asshole.'

'Now now. You're hardly well enough to start something.'

Trowa shifted on his pillows. 'You talk like that to Quatre?'

'Hardly.'

Trowa found the corners of his mouth quirking upwards. Oh, shit. He didn't like this guy, he didn't like anything about him, and he'd invaded Trowa's house and Trowa wasn't feeling strong enough to throw him out. He'd probably fall flat on his face if he tried, and Wufei would love that. Probably try to kiss him again or something.

'This is so fucked up,' he grumbled.

'Unusual, certainly.' Wufei refilled his mug. 'Trowa, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snoop around your kitchen; I was looking for your medicine cabinet.'

'Whatever. I've drunk your damn tea; I've been sitting here for a good ten minutes, so you can go now. I have a pack of dogs to take care of.'

'You have yourself to take of first.' Wufei looked down at him with an oddly unreadable expression. 'I'll look after the dogs, all right? What do I need to do; just feed them?'

'You? Seriously? It's a nice offer, but I don't think so. I've got a couple of Pit Bulls and a Rottweiler. They're not so good with strangers.'

'My grandmother breeds Chows. All other breeds are easy in comparison.'

Trowa perked up suddenly. 'Chang Chows? That's your grandmother's kennel? Shit! One of her dogs took Best in Show at Crufts last year.'

'That's right. Nataku. She had her first litter last month. Would you like a puppy?'

'Is that your new trick? Seduction by puppies? That's kind of low.'

'Would it work?'

'No, it damn well wouldn't. I only take in rescue dogs; I don't believe in paying a fortune for pedigrees.'

'Well, it wouldn't be much of a seduction if I expected you to pay for it. Anyway. Do you just have dogs or are there other animals?'

'A couple of horses and a llama. I've already turned them out in the big field behind the house. You just need to check that the water trough is full and throw over a few fork-loads of hay. I've actually fed the dogs; you can let them into the fenced paddock while you clean out the kennels. And the horse stalls.'

The dark eyes widened; hah, he hadn't expected that he'd have to shovel a load of shit.

'All right.' He tapped the sides of the Trowa's mug. 'Drink that while it's hot. I'll make more when I come back in.'

If he came back in. If the dogs didn't eat him, or if the horses didn't kick him to death, or he if he didn't get llama spit all over his face. Yeah, if Alonzo spat at him, he'd probably just go home and that would be for the best.

Once he got the chores finished before he went. Still, even if he stormed out, Duo would be here in the afternoon. He could help out. Help with burying the body, if necessary.

Cleo snuggled up against him and Trowa gave in. It wouldn't hurt to close his eyes for a couple of minutes. Just a short nap. Then he'd go out and make it very clear to Chang that he didn't need help and Chang could just get out of his life.

When he woke up, his head was resting in Chang's lap. The caramel-coloured fingers of one hand were stroking his forehead and the other was holding a paperback novel. It felt oddly comfortable. And Wufei was wearing a pair of glasses perched on the end of his nose. Very sexy. Bad thought.

'What are you reading?'

'A gay pirate story. I can lend it to you if you like.'

'Not really my thing.'

'No. You're not into swashbuckling and lots of sex?'

'I don't read fiction.'

'So I gathered.' Trowa supposed that meant the guy had perused his bookshelves as well.

Figured.

Snoop.

'Have a good nose around while I was out for the count, did you?'

'Yes, thank you.' Wufei grinned. 'Come on, Trowa. You were fast asleep. I had to entertain myself somehow.'

'Going home didn't occur to you?'

'Not for a single second,' the Chinese man assured him, that irritating little smile hovering over his mouth. 'For the record, I didn't nose around. And you don't exactly have a lot of personal items on show. One photograph to be exact. Is Duo Maxwell a friend of yours?'

'No, I just collect framed photos of total strangers and keep them in my living room. How come you know him?'

'He's done some restoration work on pictures at the National Gallery. We've met a couple of times.'

'Oh, right.'

'How are you feeling?'

'Not great,' Trowa admitted, which was a considerable understatement.

'Your temperature's up,' Wufei said softly. 'Do you think you'd be more comfortable in bed?'

'Is that a come-on? No, I'm comfortable enough right here.' Oh, fuck. He had _not_ meant to say that out loud, even if it was true. Even past his multifarious aches and pains, and the fact that his very bones felt brittle and the Charge of the Light Brigade was being recreated in his head, it felt pleasant lying like this. 'No kissing though.'

_Ack_, as Quatre would say. He apparently had a new symptom; diarrhoea of the mouth.

'Of course not,' Wufei said equably. 'I wouldn't want to kiss you in this state anyway.'

'Thanks.'

The other man laughed. 'I don't mean that.'

And then he actually did kiss him; just the faintest brush of his mouth against Trowa's forehead.

'Now, I'm going to get you some lunch.'

'I'm not hungry.'

'Just soup and toast.' He stood up carefully, gently moving Trowa's head on to a cushion. 'I hope you don't mind, but I used the roast chicken leftovers in your fridge to make the soup. You should eat something.'

'If it'll stop you nagging me, OK.'

Trowa was not used to people being in his house. He could count on the fingers of one hand the people he was comfortable having around. Duo, Cathy, Howard, Zechs, Middie. Quatre. OK, maybe he was on to two hands now.

He'd thought Kurt had deserved to be part of the count, maybe, once, before Kurt had actually moved in, which had been a massive mistake.

And now this arrogant, domineering guy's name had suddenly sprawled itself all over his list. The guy who was making lunch in his kitchen and acting like the house belonged to him. Quatre had behaved like that, a little bit, but Quatre was his boyfriend and had certain privileges. Like kissing him, for example.

'Your llama spat at me, by the way,' Wufei announced carrying in a tray. The soup smelled pretty good, actually.

'Oh yeah, he spits at strangers. Sorry. Forgot to warn you.' He wondered if Wufei would pick up on the shining insincerity of that. 'How did you get up here anyway? I never heard a car.'

'My bike.' Wufei crunched a piece of toast. 'I can't imagine you get a lot of visitors. I've seen bike trails that were less challenging.'

Trowa grinned. 'I've built a couple of trails around the property; if you think the driveway is tough, you should try them.'

'I'd like that. How much of this land do you actually own?'

'A hundred acres, more or less. I let my neighbours use some of the arable land to graze their cattle and in return I get free fodder for the horses and they help out when I need it. The rest is mostly wooded, and it runs along the national park. I get lots of wildlife.'

'I saw a peregrine falcon while I was driving up.'

'Yeah, there's a pair nesting a couple of miles away. You're into bird-watching? Seems a weird kind of hobby for an art historian.'

'And art collecting seems a rather odd hobby for a professional dog-trainer. You still have some lovely pieces. The Merquise watercolour of the heron is beautiful.' He sat back, looking around with every appearance of pleasure. 'This whole house is amazing, actually. I love how you've used all natural materials.'

'How did you know I built it?'

'Quatre mentioned it. He sounded very impressed.'

'Did he? I get the feeling it's not really his sort of place. He's such a city guy; likes to be around people a lot. I'm not into that. I don't even like having visitors much.'

'Why don't you like me?' Wufei looked up at him, soup spoon in hand.

'You actually need to ask? I kissed you. I've got a boyfriend; I shouldn't be cheating on him.'

'I kissed you. Blame me.'

'I do.' Trowa crumbled a toast crust into his soup. 'Are you going to tell him?'

'I haven't, yet. No. I'm not going to tell him. You didn't exactly seem to like me from the start. Even before the kiss.'

'Really?' Trowa drawled with biting sarcasm. 'How bizarre. Fancy me not liking the guy who's out to steal my boyfriend. And keeps hitting on me as a sideline.'

'Do you love him?'

'I don't think that's any of your business.'

'No?' He did that maddening eyebrow twitch again. 'I think it is actually.'

'Screw you.'

Wufei positively beamed. 'We've already established that you're not well enough for that sort of thing.

'Oh, God. Here we go again.' Trowa closed his eyes; maybe this whole insane episode was some sort of fever-borne delusion. It wasn't really happening. It couldn't be. When he cracked one eyelid open, Chang was still there.

'I think you should go now. I mean it. Just go.'

'Will you let me call Quatre? Or somebody else?'

'Duo'll be here in a few hours. I'll survive 'til then.'

'Quatre won't like the idea of me leaving you here alone like this.'

'Yeah? He'd probably like it even less if he knew the stuff you've been doing.'

'Is he the possessive sort, then?' Wufei wondered. 'Not that I blame him; I'd be possessive, if you were mine.'

'I'm not anybody's.'

'I'm not sure if Quatre would agree with that. Trowa, I can call him.'

'He's busy. He was meeting up with a couple of new clients.'

'Well, I'm sure they can wait twenty four hours for him to take them shopping, or whatever it is he does.'

'Ouch,' Trowa pulled a face. 'Does he know you have that low an opinion of his job?'

'Job, right.' Wufei snorted. 'He knows I have a low opinion of him frittering away his life and his talents as a glorified personal shopper, just because he didn't get to do the one thing he wanted.'

Trowa almost – almost – asked what the hell that meant, and then it was suddenly clear. The painting; the way he'd been holding the violin. The way he'd immediately changed the subject when Trowa had mentioned it. And he'd just let it go, the way Quatre had wanted.

'He's happy doing what he does. Isn't that the important thing?'

'Perhaps. If he truly is happy. You're his boyfriend; you should know.'

'Yeah. I am.' Trowa suddenly realised he was holding one of Wufei's hands in his. When the hell had that happened? 'Look. You're hot. If it wasn't for Quatre, I'd probably jump you in a shot. Especially if you had a personality transplant. But I've got someone. And I'm not into two – timing, even if you are. Are always this fickle?'

'No.' Wufei looked stung by the accusation.'No, I'm not. I'm the opposite if anything,' he added ruefully. 'Trowa, I don't think you're really in any state to have this conversation. Perhaps, when you're feeling better, we could meet up, just for a drink and talk a little?'

'No point,' Trowa said tiredly. 'Like I said, I think it's time you left now.'


	24. Chapter 24

Tragically, they don't belong to me.

Note: many thanks to my valiant proofreader, KS, last seen buried under a pile of chapters…

**Chapter 24:**

_In which Treize and Duo plan a quiet evening at home…_

'Is it nearly over?' Treize asked, trying to make his voice as plaintive as possible.

'Twenty seven minutes.' Duo didn't bother to take his eyes away from the television 'You see that flat machine under the TV? That's called a DVD player, and the little red numbers on the left hand side say exactly how much time is left for the movie. Maybe I should have asked the shop to programme it with Roman numerals so you could read them?'

'Very witty. I don't know how you can watch this drivel.'

'No one's asking you to look at it. I thought you were reading.'

'Hmmm. It's rather hard to concentrate with you on top of me like this.' That was perfectly true. Duo's head's was nestled in his lap, and all that glorious hair was spread over Treize's thighs, seducing his fingers away from the book in his hand.

'I could move,' Duo offered, and smiled when Treize pressed one hand down on his shoulder.

'Don't you dare.' Treize glanced away from his love's face to see what was happening on the screen. 'It's such a ridiculous plot; there isn't even any attempt to make it believable.'

'I'm not watching for the plot,' Duo explained. 'It's got cool action scenes and Hugh Jackman is really hot.'

'I thought our new rule was that we weren't allowed to make comments about finding other men attractive.'

'Other _gay_ men,' Duo elaborated. 'Hugh isn't gay. Sadly. And look at it this way, if I'm going to drool over another guy, wouldn't you prefer me to do it over a mutant from a comic strip?'

'That's rather a good point,' Treize admitted, bending down to kiss Duo's forehead. 'Love, since you're not interested in the actual plot, maybe we could find something more amusing to do before dinner?'

Duo's mouth curved into one of his delicious smiles. 'Dream on. I never said I didn't want to see what happened. Now shut up for a bit, OK? I didn't talk when we went to the opera last week.'

'You listened to your iPod.'

The smile broadened. 'Only during the boring bits. Seriously, if you want to talk about preposterous plots, just look at pretty much every opera you've taken me to. No sense whatsoever.'

'If you're going to insult my favourite hobby, which happens to be one of the world's greatest art forms, the engagement is off.'

Duo's eyes gleamed. 'Well, you stop slagging my movie. Opera's pretty cool, really, 'specially when you've got a private box, and can find other stuff to do during the interval.'

'That is very….. cool,' Treize agreed, remembering the advantages attached to having one's private box.. 'Are you quite sure you don't want to pause the film and watch it later?'

'Wow, Duo marvelled. 'You actually implied that you know something about technology. Better watch yourself; you'll be googling stuff and getting a FaceBook account next. And, yep, I'm totally positive. There'll be other stuff I want to do later.' He snuggled down a little closer. 'You know what I'd really love right now?'

'I'm sure I can imagine.' Treize stroked that soft, silky hair, loving the feel of it, and let his hand move on downwards, taking his time about it.

'Some yummy popcorn with butter melted all over it.'

'It's all gone. You ate it.'

'More in the kitchen. Whole bags of it, just needing a couple of tiny seconds in the microwave.'

'Off you go then.'

Duo pouted. 'A loving fiancé would get up and make it for me.'

'A loving fiancé might possibly ask what he'll get in return.'

'Lifelong love and devotion,' Duo said promptly.

'I was under the impression that I already had those.'

'Huh. You've been very full of yourself lately.'

'How can I not be?' Treize asked whimsically. 'The most amazing man in the universe has agreed to spend his life with me. Of course I'm feeling smug.'

'Doesn't the most amazing man in the universe deserve a little treat?'

'Possibly. But that would involve me having to move, and I'm quite comfortable like this. Of course, if you were to make me an offer I couldn't refuse, I might possibly be tempted.'

Duo groaned eloquently. 'I should never have bought you that 'Godfather' boxed set. How about wild jungle sex after dinner?'

'Tempting. Definitely. But I was rather counting on that anyway.'

'Wild jungle sex with an opera of your choice playing at full blast?'

'Very acceptable, seraph. Would you like a drink with that?'

'Maybe some juice or something?' He grinned at the expression on Treize's face. 'It's Quat, OK? He's always hassling me about drinking too many sodas.'

'Juice it is then. And you'd better have room for your dinner afterwards.'

Lashes dropped deliberately over one indigo eye. 'I promise, I'll have room for anything you care to give me.' He followed that up with a suggestive little pout, and ran the tip of his tongue across his upper lip.

They watched the last minutes of the film in silence, broken only by Duo's soft sighs as Treize worked fingers caressingly through that beautiful hair. It was a perfect, perfect evening; just the two of them and the shaggy mound of the dog on the floor, tongue industriously cleaning out the remnants of butter from the popcorn bowl.

The perfect end to a blissful day spent together. He hadn't seen much of Duo since they'd got back from Nova four days ago; he and Quatre had been too busy playing nursemaid for Trowa, poor unfortunate man. It was high time they had a day to themselves, so they'd spent the morning walking Laragh on the beach, lazed away most of the afternoon in bed, and then Treize had embarked on preparations for an elaborate dinner, while Duo sat at the kitchen table and peeled and sliced and chopped and showed off his knife-throwing skills when that got boring.

'This is so nice,' Duo said quietly as the final credits rolled on the screen. 'Just the two of us, like this. You know, I'm sort of glad Tro and Quat turned down the invite to dinner. Did I tell you, they're going bowling?' He twisted around to see Treize's face. 'Yeah, I know. I can't imagine it either.'

Treize laughed, tangling his hands in Duo's hair and twisting the strands around his fingers. 'Well, he's very good at _pétanque_, so maybe that will help. And he does seem very attached to Trowa; I'm sure he'll be happy just to spend some time with him.'

'He is a smitten kitten all right,' Duo agreed. 'They're pretty cute together, actually, with Trowa pretending he doesn't like being fussed over and really lapping it up. It's nice for him to have someone to pamper him a bit. Like I've got you. Oy! Are you playing cat's cradle with my hair again? It's not a toy, Treize! And the rest of me would quite like a bit of attention.'

'Oh, _now_ you decide you want to play? Dinner should be ready in a few minutes, and I refuse to let it spoil.'

'We could just order pizza.' Duo threw his head back, smiling. 'Later. Much later.'

Treize gave the locks of hair in his hand a slight tug. 'I've spent hours, _hours_, preparing that meal, slaving over a hot stove. We are not going to do anything of the sort. Now come on. We can feed each other, and I'm planning to take dessert upstairs and use you as a serving dish.'

'Whipped cream?' Duo let himself be pulled to his feet and followed Treize into the kitchen, perching on the table.

'Warm chocolate cake and passion fruit sorbet actually. Suitably sticky and spreadable. If you're good.'

'Mmm. I like the sound of that. Oh, that smells great.' Duo sniffed happily. Laragh was weaving in and out of their legs and whining gently at the smell of meat as Treize took the beef out the oven. 'What do I get if I'm not good?'

'You'll find out.'

'I'm looking forward to it.' Duo stuck a finger into the pot of mashed potatoes and sucked. 'This is yummy. What did you add to them?'

'Wholegrain mustard and Rocquefort. And a little of the whipped cream.'

'Ooh. _Yum_. I love having a boyfriend who happens to be a gourmet cook.'

'Fiancé ,' Treize corrected, smiling, dropping a shred of meat on the floor for the dog.

'Fiancé, yep.' Duo took Treize's hand and clinked their two rings together. 'Anything I can do to help?'

'Actually, yes. I opened a bottle of red; it's down in the cellar if you wouldn't mind getting it?'

'Sure. That wouldn't happen to be a bottle of Malbec, would it? With delicate overtones of damsons and violets?' Duo grinned. 'God, you're such a sap.'

Treize laughed, transferring food to plates. 'A traditionalist, love. And before you start name calling, my lovely Scheherazade, may I remind you what book you bought for my birthday last year?'

'Oh, don't start that again! I'm not a girl!'

'I've noticed, oddly enough. Although you do have the perfect hair to match the illustrations.'

'Sap's obviously contagious. And you're a carrier. The incubator! And now I've been infected.' Duo headed for the stairs, then suddenly swung back and threw his arms around the taller man. 'I love you to bits. Totally and utterly.'

'That's good.' Treize buried one hand in the flood of hair tumbling down his lover's back, and ran the other over his body in a long caress. 'And entirely reciprocated.'

'That's all right then. Back in a sec. Come on, Laragh. Let's go and look for cellar monsters.'

Treize shook his head smiling as the pair headed out of the kitchen, Duo making sure to sway his hips a little, knowing he was being watched.

'You're going to traumatise the dog, talking about monsters down there.'

'She's a tough, brave dog,' Duo called back, laughing. 'And you always say…'

His voice stopped abruptly; there was silence for a couple of seconds, and then a heart-breaking crash.

'Duo!'

He was lying on the stone flagged floor of the cellar, blood streaming from a cut over his right eye. Bleeding; at least he was alive. Dead men didn't bleed. Treize had lost any shred of faith he'd ever possessed in a benevolent deity years before, watching men die under the scorching sun of Sudan but his mind was still shaping prayers as he felt frantically for Duo's pulse.

Please God.

'Sweetheart? Can you hear me?'

Duo's eyelashes fluttered open.

He blinked dazedly a couple of times and then managed to focus. 'Ugh. Guess the cellar monsters got me. Right?'

'Evil monsters,' Treize agreed, running both hands carefully over his lover's body. Apart from the gash in his forehead, there didn't seem to be any other injuries. 'We need to perform an exorcism. Duo, are you hurt anywhere? No, don't sit up for a minute.'

'Floor's cold,' Duo muttered querulously. 'I'm OK, Treize. What happened?' He lifted one finger to his face and felt the blood. 'Why'm I bleeding?'

'You fell down the stairs and cut your forehead on the corner of the last step. No, don't try to move for a minute. Love, how many fingers am I holding?'

Duo squinted. 'Um, three. No?'

Treize touched the finger he'd been holding up to Duo's cheek. Slurred speech; disorientation. 'I think you've got a very slight concussion. Are you hurt anywhere else?'

'No. Treize, stop fussing. I'm fine. Just a bit woozy. If you just let me lie here for a minute, I can walk back upstairs and lie on the couch for a little bit.'

'You're going to hospital.'

'No way!'

'No arguments.'

Duo, of course, argued that he was fine while he was being carried upstairs, having gauze pressed to his eye and deposited in the passenger seat of his car, and then dozed off before they'd reached the end of the driveway, only waking up once they reached St. Gabriel's.

'Shit. Treize, this is dumb. I don't need to go to hospital. I hate these places! You know, I'll probably spend the next five hours sitting in A and E so some student doctor can tell me to go home and rest and stick a plaster on my eye.'

Treize felt the tightness in his chest evaporate slightly. Duo sounded perfectly coherent, even thought some words were slightly slurred. 'I promise that won't happen.'

He was right of course. His grandmother had chaired the hospital fund-raising committee for almost twenty years, and the maternity wing was named in her honour. Two of his great aunts currently sat on the hospital board. There was no way that Treize Khushrenada's fiancé would be left kicking his heels in a crowded surgery.

Duo ended up in a private suite on the second floor, with the hospital's chief neurologist paged to see him, and a gaggle of nurses in attendance.

It didn't stop him grumbling, naturally.

'This is _such_ a waste of time. You know that? I just need aspirin or something for my headache.'

'Of course, my love. Just as you say. Now sit still, will you?' Treize held his hand tightly as a a pretty nurse examined the cut, which was still bleeding sluggishly. If Duo had been cut an inch or so lower down, he could have lost an eye. He was _not_ going to think about that.

'Stop humouring me.'

'Yes, darling.'

Duo made a face at him, not happy in the least with any of this. 'Can you call Tro? Please?'

'I already did. I've left a message.' It had been the last thing Duo had said before he'd dozed off. Treize had 'phoned on the drive to the hospital; something that was officially illegal in Sanque, but then he'd broken so many other traffic rules on the way that one more hardly mattered.

'Thanks. This is such a waste of time.'

'I know, but you are being considerate enough to indulge me.' Treize squeezed his hand gently, relieved to see the doctor walking through the door.

'Now, what seems to be the problem?'

'He has a cut in his right temple that's going to require stitching,' Treize said crisply. 'He's also sustained a mild head injury but it doesn't seem to be serious. He's complaining about a headache. He was a little disorientated at first and his speech was slightly slurred, but there was no loss of consciousness. Nonetheless, I'd prefer to have a CT scan done as soon as possible.'

'Don't listen to him!' Duo shot Treize a mutinous glare. 'He watches 'House' all the time, thinks he's a qualified doctor.'

'I do have medical training training, actually,' Treize defended himself.

'That was years ago in the army! Doctor, I'm fine; I just need a little plaster and I can go home.'

The doctor gave him a reassuring smile. 'I'm sure you're right, but I'm going to humour this very protective gentleman, just in case. One can't be too careful with head injuries. Mr. Khushrenada, may I ask you to step outside for a few moments?'

'I'd rather stay, actually. Don't you think you should attend to that cut before anything else? It's still hasn't stopped bleeding.'

'All in good time. Now, if I could just have a few moments with Mr. Maxwell? Nurse, perhaps you could show Mr. Khushrenada to the waiting room? Thank you.'

Between Duo glaring at him, and the petite, blond nurse laying a hand on his arm to lead him outside, Treize suddenly found himself on the wrong side of the door. How the hell had that happened?

'What the hell happened to him?' A new voice echoed his thoughts exactly; Trowa Barton was standing in front of him. 'How is he?'

'Well enough to argue with the doctor that he's perfectly fine and doesn't need to be here. I don't actually think he's that badly hurt; he has a cut over one eye that's going to need stitches, and I think a mild concussion.'

The lines around Trowa's mouth relaxed a little. 'Stubborn little shit, isn't he? What happened?'

'It was my fault. He was going down to the cellar to get some wine, and he tripped. There's been a nail loose on the top stair for weeks, but I've never got around to having it fixed. He was calling back to me; he mustn't have been paying attention and he fell.

'Hey.' Trowa's hand on his arm was a surprise; the first time Trowa had ever touched him like that. 'Stop beating yourself up. He's tough, and he's had way worse than that.'

'He shouldn't have to be tough in his own home,' Treize grated. 'It's the one place where I should be able to keep him safe.'

Those green eyes gave him an oddly penetrating stare. 'He's pretty good at keeping himself safe. He doesn't need you fussing over him all the time.'

Treize lifted his eyebrows. 'Let me see, I called you approximately forty minutes ago. If you were at home then, you must have broken speed records to get here, not to mention the sound barrier.'

'Touché, I guess. Although actually I was on my way into town' Trowa actually grinned at him, and then the nurse stuck her curly head out the door.

'Sir? We've administered a local anaesthetic and Mr. Maxwell is asking for you. Would you mind sitting with him while Dr. Morton puts in the stitches?'

Duo was sitting up, glaring. 'I hate you. I hate hospitals and I just want to go home. You better not let these people cut my hair. And what the hell did you call Tro for?'

'You asked me to. And I've called Joanna to dogsit so you don't need to worry about Laragh.'

Duo shrugged. 'Who's Laragh? Hey, Tro.'

Trowa stepped forward, taking Duo's other hand. 'Always in trouble, Max, aren't you?'

'I'm fine!' Duo drooped suddenly, flopping back on to the mattress. 'I could've just stayed at home, but this asshole dragged me here and he _knows_ I hate hospitals. _And_ he tried bossing the doctor around! Tro, can you get me out of here?'

'Behave yourself. Treize was worried about you. That's all. We'll take you home as soon as the doctor says it's OK, but they have to fix your cut first.'

Duo stuck out his tongue; at least there was nothing wrong with his motor functions. 'I can't fucking believe you two are ganging up on me. That's _so_ not fair.'

'I'm sorry, Duo.' Treize bent and kissed the little frown between his lover's brows. 'I promise, I'll take you out of here as soon as possible. Love you.'

The scowl on Duo's face melted away magically and was replaced by the most beatific smile. 'Love you too, Tro.'


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25:**

_In which Quatre is stood up for his date with Trowa and is very unhappy about it._

Quatre didn't even notice that Trowa was late picking him up until he was getting out of the shower. It was a quarter past six, and he'd been supposed to come at six.

It wasn't a problem at first. It was actually quite considerate of Trowa to have dropped those ridiculously fascist notions of punctuality, and accept Quatre-time.

An hour later, there was still no sign of him.

Which, when you thought about it, was just plain rude. He could at least have called. Anyone might conceivably get lost in a book, or in taking a bath, or get distracted on the way by a new shop or delicatessen, but Quatre always called people to say he was running late.

It was just good manners, a concept which apparently eluded Mr. Trowa Barton entirely.

Well, there was no way he was going to spend the evening at home alone; not when he was all dressed up.

He could go into town and spend an hour at his favourite café – life would seem a lot better after a ginger and passion-fruit juice, and a nice salad, and maybe an Earl Grey muffin. And then he could go shopping.

It was perfectly possible to have a good time without someone as ungracious as Trowa Barton.

And life was always better when one walked up the dilapidated, crumbling staircase, through the narrow tunnel lined with dingy white tiles and came out into the glory of Le Fenetre Soleil.

It was a little piece of Bohemian Paris in the middle of Sanque's Business District, hemmed in by merchant banks and stock brokers offices.

They were playing Edith Piaf on the stereo, and the whole place smelled of warm passion-fruit sauce.

Bliss.

Trowa, Quatre thought happily, collecting a menu and a couple of French magazines, and making his way to his favourite velvet armchair by the window, would hate this place. He'd say it was _pretentious_, just because there was a crystal chandelier, and a four-poster bed in one corner draped with silk scarves, and huge arrangements of exotic flowers, and three pages of the menu devoted to herbal teas.

Really, he was far, far better off without someone like that.

Wufei,on the other hand, would probably appreciate this place, Quatre decided, leafing through the menu and deciding to go forego salads for something stickily, squelchily sweet for a change. And Wufei would never, never have stood him up like this.

He smiled up at the waitress. 'I'll have the passion-fruit crepes with ice-cream, please. And orange and ginger juice.'

'Excellent choice,' a familiar voice approved from behind his chair.

'Wufei!' Quatre exclaimed in delight. 'I was just thinking about you.'

'Good things, I hope?' Wufei beamed at him, obviously just as delighted at the chance meeting.

'Of course, good things. Won't you sit down? Or are you with someone?'

Wufei shook his head. He looked amazing. Mouth watering. Quatre hadn't seen him in such casual clothes before and they suited him perfectly. A fitted – _very_ fitted – t-shirt that clung to his body and a pair of worn jeans.

And all that martial arts training Zechs said he did had very obviously paid off.

'No, I'm by myself. I thought you were seeing Trowa tonight?'

'I was,' Quatre muttered. 'Supposedly. He stood me up. That hasn't happened to me since I was nineteen and then it was because he'd been in a car accident, so it doesn't really count. He never even bothered calling me. Trowa, I mean. Don't you think that's appallingly rude?'

'Unimaginably so,' Wufei agreed, sitting down and adding fair-mindedly, 'Perhaps he was in an accident or something.'

'You don't have to make excuses for him.'

'I'll stop then.' Wufei smiled at him. 'I'm doing rather well out of the situation, after all, since I get to see you again.'

'Thank you. I'm so sorry I had to cancel going to the cinema with you yesterday. Trowa said he was fine but I didn't want to leave him all alone in case he felt sick again.'

'Don't give it a moment's thought.'

Right. That was clear enough. Wufei wasn't interested either, if he'd forgotten that quickly. No one seemed to like him any more.

'Quatre.' Wufei's hand was suddenly on his arm, like it belonged there, like being touched by him was the most natural thing in the world. 'I didn't mean it like that. I just don't want you to feel guilty about me. You made your decision. Of course being with your sick boyfriend takes priority.'

Quatre sniffed. 'Maybe I made the wrong decision.'

'Stop. You're angry with him now, but he could have a perfectly good reason for letting you down. He probably wasn't feeling well; you said he had the 'flu and it takes a while to get over that.'

'Well, if he had a relapse it's his own fault. On Tuesday, he insisted on going out to check on his pets even though he had a fever. He's the world's worst patient. I actually threatened to tie him to the bed at one point.'

Wufei groaned. '_Don't_ tell me things like that. You do realise I won't be able to sleep for a week, with the images I'm getting from that one statement.'

'Mr. Chang!' Quatre twinkled up at him. 'Are you flirting with me?'

'Quatre, I've been very determinedly flirting with you ever since you sat down. Haven't you noticed?'

Quatre nodded happily. 'Oh, yes! You probably shouldn't, you know. We did decide we were going to be just friends from now on.'

'We could be friends who flirt.'

'I'm not sure if Trowa would approve of that,' Quatre said demurely.

'I'm sure Trowa would disapprove heartily,' Wufei agreed. 'Of course, he's not actually here. He's a fool, Quatre, to treat you like this. You deserve so much better.'

'You know, you're perfectly right!' Quatre decided. 'I do deserve someone better! Someone who's at least going to be a little considerate of me.'

'Of course you do,' Wufei assured him, shifting his chair a little closer as the waitress appeared with his order. 'While you're waiting for your food, would you like something of mine to start?'

'Earl Grey muffins!' Quatre's eyes lit up. 'Oh, I'd love one. Thank you so much.'

'I have the recipe, if you'd like it.'

'No! Seriously? I'm always begging them for it and they refuse to give it out.'

Wufei smirked slightly. 'I visited family in China last year, and brought back some special spices for the chef. In exchange, he gave me some of his recipes. I'm not supposed to tell anyone but I could make an exception for you.'

'Yes, please. You won't have to kill me or anything if you tell me, will you?'

'Nothing like that.' Wufei put a piece of muffin in his mouth and chewed. 'I'm sure you can find a less lethal way to thank me.'

Oh, gulp. There was a smattering of tiny crumbs at the corner of his lip. Very distracting. Very tempting, just to reach out and brush them off with one finger. Or to lick him clean.

Ugh. Bad thoughts.

He had a boyfriend, albeit an evil one, and he didn't cheat. Ever. Even if Trowa was off with someone else; some edgy man who liked being dragged into doorways and pawed, and would sleep with someone as soon as look as them.

'I'll email it to you when I get home.'

'Thank you.' Quatre wet one finger, and cleared up the crumbs on his plate. 'At least, I'll have one thing to look forward to,' he said dolefully.

'_Stop_ that,' Wufei ordered. 'Self pity doesn't suit you. Have you tried calling him?'

'Certainly not! He's the one who should be calling me, not that I want to hear whatever stupid excuse he's going to invent. Do you know what? I don't want to hear whatever he comes up with. I'm going to turn off my 'phone!'

It didn't hurt quite so much as he'd imagined it would. Wait 'til he told Duo he'd actually switched off what his friends called his life support machine! But it wasn't that bad. After all, his family and his closest friends had his other number.

'Where was he supposed to be taking you tonight? Somewhere nice?'

'Bowling.'

'Ah.' Wufei's voice was very dry. 'Do you like bowling?'

'I don't know. I've never done it before. Then we were going to some Mexican restaurant for dinner. I suppose it might have been fun. Anyway, it's rather nice to have a free evening; one of my nieces is having a birthday party at the weekend. I have to buy her a present, and I still have to get an anniversary gift for my parents.'

Wufei nodding, sipping his tea. 'It's their fortieth, isn't it? I've seen some beautiful ruby-red Venetian crystal in that antique shop in the Victoria Arcade. Would they like something like that?'

'I think that would be perfect. They open late tonight, don't they?'

'Nine o'clock.'

'Excellent. And I can get something for Aimée in the bookshop next door and then wander around a little bit.' He dipped his spoon in the pool of fruit sauce on his plate and licked it thoughtfully. 'I don't suppose you'd like to come with me? It's a nice evening for a walk.'

'I'm not sure if that would be a very good idea.'

'You said you wanted us to stay friends.'

'I know I did. And I'm sorry, but you've got a boyfriend.'

'Have I?' Quatre asked bitterly. 'This was supposed to be our third date, you know. And he couldn't be bothered to turn up. It's not exactly a good omen.'

'You're really upset about this, aren't you?'

Quatre nodded, tearing his eyes away from Wufei's; away from the compassion in his expression. 'I like him a lot. I don't even know why half the time. He hates practically everything I like; we have hardly anything in common; he doesn't even like my best friend, and he's refusing to meet my family. I asked him to come to Aimee's birthday on Saturday and he clearly wasn't remotely interested.'

'Why _do_ you like him then?'

'I don't know! He's intelligent and interesting and he can be really funny sometimes, and well, you've met him. I know it was only for a short time at the rally, but you know what he's like.'

Wufei looked fixedly at his plate. 'I do. Quite the competition, actually.'

'What does that mean?'

'Work it out. It sounds like I have a rather serious rival.'

'You said you'd accepted that I'd made my choice.'

'Yes, well, I'm thinking I may have to change my mind. If you were happy with him, then that would be different. But you're quite obviously not.'

'He's still my boyfriend,' Quatre whispered. 'I think, anyway.'

'For now.' Those amazing black eyes were suddenly very direct. And very close, because Wufei was leaning across the table to him. 'You just said that maybe you'd made the wrong decision. I'd like to convince you of that. If I may?'

He could have moved away. Wufei didn't pounce, or anything so crass. He took his time about it, giving Quatre plenty of time to pull back, or object, or take a swing at him.

There was one hand gently cradling his jaw, and tilting his face very slightly. It was all very slow and gentle, and none the less forceful for that. He'd wanted this ever since he'd first seen the man.

'No.' He jerked back suddenly. 'I'm sorry, Wufei. Truly. It's not that I don't want to, because I do but it would be wrong.'

'Is this about not wanting to hurt Trowa?'

'Not exactly. He'd never know. It's more about me. I've never cheated on anyone in my life. I'd rather not start.'

Wufei shook his head, a few stray strands ghosting over golden skin. 'He doesn't deserve you. Let me do this at least?' He leaned in, and pressed his lips to Quatre's cheek; the sort of platonic gesture that was perfectly acceptable between friends in Sanque. Just a kiss, that maybe lasted a moment or so longer than was considered usual. And then Wufei's head titled slightly and his mouth was over Quatre's. The barest, briefest touch of flesh to flesh.

'Wufei,' Quatre whispered. 'Please.'

He couldn't have said, at that precise moment, when he was pleading for, except that Wufei let him go, and left a lingering feel of loss.

'I should apologise,' Wufei said quietly, 'except I've wanted to do that ever since I first saw you in that club. ' He smiled. 'It was worth the wait. And don't worry; you have absolutely nothing to feel guilty about.'

'Yes.' Right then. The world had just lurched on its axis. The Earth moving in its simplest sense.

Trowa.

'I can't. I have ….'

'I know. A boyfriend.' Wufei was smiling, very slightly, as if Trowa was no more than a tiny objection to be brushed aside. Hmmm. So there was a totally different side to the diffident, scholarly man who'd first courted him. That was interesting.

'I'm sure you can find a solution to that particular problem if you think about it a little.'

Quatre jerked up his chin, nettled by the sheer arrogance in Wufei's voice. He didn't like being taken for granted. 'I'm not sure if I want to, actually.'

'You will.' He laughed at the look on Quatre's face. 'I'm sorry; that was ridiculously presumptuous. I just meant that I'm planning to do everything in my power to show you how much I want to be with you.'

'Yes, well.' Quatre took a mouthful of his cold tea. He wasn't used to feeling flustered. But, Heavens, this was all very flattering. And of course he shouldn't have returned the kiss, but it was all Trowa's fault in the first place, for letting him down, and for all he knew Trowa could be off with someone else anyway.

'Relax, Quatre.' Wufei took one of his hands and stroked the palm with one fingertip. 'I just wanted to register my interest, and let you know I'm not giving up on you. Is that permitted?'

'I suppose so. If you must.'

'Oh, I must. It's absolutely imperative.'

What was absolutely imperative, Quatre decided, was for Wufei not to stop touching him like that. Just the pad of one finger, dancing over his skin, and it was almost shockingly intimate. There was the whole martial arts thing as well, and that was oddly erotic. He could probably break someone's neck with that one finger.

Which was disturbing to think about, for someone who was totally opposed to violence.

'Are you really into Karate?' he asked, because his brain needed to find something else to absorb it.

'How did you know that?' Wufei looked amused.

'Zechs told me.'

'I can't imagine how he'd know,' Wufei sounded nonplussed and Quatre laughed.

'Oh, he knows all sorts of things about you. When is it that you two are having dinner?'

'On Saturday.'

'You don't exactly sound thrilled about it.'

Wufei arched an eyebrow at him. 'I'd much prefer to be taking you out. Anyway, since you asked, yes, I am interested in martial arts. Not Karate but some ancient Chinese and Tibetan disciplines.'

Quatre shook his head. 'I can't really see you doing something like that.' Of course, he'd never have thought that Wufei would have a motorbike either. Quite the interesting dichotomy, was Mr. Chang. 'How did you ever get into it?'

'My grandfather taught me; he believed I needed discipline. It was originally a form of anger management.'

'You?' Quatre gaped at the smiling man opposite him, as serene as sunlight on still water.

'I'm afraid so. I was rather a brat as a child. Horribly arrogant and totally sure of my own brilliance. When my grandfather came to live with us, he informed my parents that I was an appalling child and decided to take me in hand.'

'You must have hated that!'

'Oh, I did, at first. But I'd been raised to respect older people, so I went along with him, and then I found I was enjoying learning a whole new set of skills.'

'It just doesn't seem to go with the image of being an art historian,' Quatre grinned at him. 'Going around breaking bricks in half and whatever else you do.'

'I've never broken a brick in my life!' Wufei looked slightly offended. 'It's just a hobby, Quatre. A good way to keep fit, and impose discipline on mind and body. It doesn't define who I am.'

'No.' God, he was as bad as Trowa; quite impossible to pin down and identify. 'Did you always want to study art?'

'Not in the least. I wanted to be a fighter pilot when I was a teenager.'

'Really?' Quatre couldn't imagine anything more horrible. 'Why?'

Wufei laughed. 'I was a fifteen year old boy. I wanted speed. All that power. Anyway, I had a medical test a year or so later, and my eyesight wasn't good enough, so that was that.'

'Did you mind?'

'At the time, gods, yes. It also meant I couldn't join the police, which was another career I'd thought about. Anyway, I ended up studying law in my first year at university. I spent the summer working for a friend of my father's, who's a lawyer, became totally disenchanted with the justice system, and decided I wanted to do something completely different.'

'Wow. That's a lot of career changes!'

Wufei shrugged. 'Who knows what they want to do when they're teenagers, really? What about you?'

'I wanted to be a professional violinist, but I wasn't good enough.' Quatre put down the cup he'd been nursing. 'If you'd like to change your mind about coming shopping with me, we'd better go, before it gets too late.'

'Of course.' Wufei nodded to the waitress. 'Quatre, just give me a chance. Please? We could be wonderful together, the two of us. Will you at least think about us?'

'I will.' Quatre stood up, stretching. 'It's just…complicated. If it weren't for Trowa, then yes. Certainly. I don't know, Wufei. I'm confused and I kissed you and I shouldn't have done that…'

'Shhh. I kissed you. You didn't have any say in the matter. You've done absolutely nothing wrong.'

He had though, Quatre reflected miserably, collecting his jacket and following Wufei downstairs.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26:**

_In which Trowa tries to cope with a certain amount of fall out…._

'Love you, Tro.'

Duo, having dropped his bombshell, promptly gave Treize an adoring smile and conked out.

Shit.

'He didn't mean it,' Trowa said hastily, as a nurse ushered the pair of them out of Duo's room. _Shit_. Of course he hadn't meant it. But it would be hell for him to wake up in hospital with Treize pissed at him over something he hadn't even known he'd said. 'He's just groggy from the anaesthetic. He didn't mean anything.'

'No. Of course not.' Khushrenada didn't even have the decency to look at him; his tone as coolly unconcerned as if Duo had recited a shopping list.

Bastard. What the fuck did Duo, his lovely, vibrant Duo, see in him?

There had just been one tiny fraction of a second, after Duo spoke, when Trowa had seen a shadow of something in his blue eyes, and then it was gone, with that inscrutable, arrogant mask firmly slotted in place.

Asshole.

He'd probably never had a moment's self doubt in his privileged existence.

The nurse had taken them to a private waiting room, and Treize instantly took the chair beside the door.

In the old days, Trowa would have patched Duo up in the bathroom, and slapped his face to keep him awake.

Duo would probably have appreciated it more than being dragged here and surrounded by all these doctors and nurses, all kow-towing to his boyfriend, naturally.

His boyfriend, who was calmly leafing through a copy of _Time._

_You're such a jerk, do you know that?_

Trowa imagined, for a brief instant, what it would be like to say that aloud. Would there even be a reaction? Probably not. The slightest elevation of those freaky eyebrows, possibly.

Trowa was Duo's friend, and therefore had to be tolerated, with graciousness and condescension and impeccable good-breeding.

'I'm going to get whatever substance passes for coffee in this place,' Trowa announced. 'Do you want something?'

'Not now, thank you.' He never looked up from his magazine, apparently absorbed. He got two coffees anyway, just for something to do; even if Treize turned his nose up at beverage that didn't come in an antique porcelain cup, Trowa would drink them both.

Duo's doctor was with Treize when he got back; the guy glanced straight over at Treize as if asking what this stranger was doing barging in on them.

'Mr. Barton is a friend of the family.' Treize said it wearily, as if he just couldn't be bothered to object, and that nearly made it worse.

The doctor gave them both a smooth, suave smile. He was wearing a nametag that described him as Head of Surgery; anyone else would have wait for hours before being seen by some overworked student doctor but not Treize Khushrenada's boyfriend. 'Mr. Maxwell apparently possesses an exceedingly thick skull. We've given him a couple of stitches, but he seems to be fine.'

'When I found him, he was unconscious. I was worried. I've seen head injuries.'

'A very mild concussion, only,' the doctor informed him. 'We'll keep him for tonight, but you should be able to take him tomorrow, once we've run a few tests in the morning.'

'When should he be conscious?' Treize's voice sounded oddly stained.

'Perhaps not for a couple of hours. We gave him a fairly strong anaesthetic.'

'Fine. Thank you.' Treize gave the man a brief handshake and buried his nose back in his magazine.

'He'll be OK,' Trowa said quietly. 'It's just a local anaesthetic, and a few stitches. There probably won't even be much of a scar.'

That was probably what he was worrying about; that his pretty little toy had got himself scratched.

They sat in silence for the next hour. At some point, he thought of Quatre, with a little pinprick of guilt, and called him.

'What do _you_ want?' Quatre demanded, every word doused in acid and edged with razor blades. 'Didn't my replacement put out?'

Trowa blinked. 'What?'

'We were _supposed_ to be going out tonight. When you didn't condescend to show up, I naturally assumed that you'd received a better offer. Was he not as accommodating as you'd hoped?'

Oh, shit.

'Quatre, listen. I'm at St. Gabriel's Hospital. Duo had an accident earlier.'

'How is he?' the blond asked in a very different voice.

'He's OK. He fell down a flight of stairs and bashed his head. He needs a couple of stitches but he's all right.'

'I'm on my way.'

He turned up twenty minutes later, and rushed straight into Treize's arms.

Another one.

'How is he? Are you all right? What happened?'

Treize told him, briefly, playing it down. Quatre fussed over him, and found a nurse who brought them tea in proper cups with saucers, and then charmed her into bringing sandwiches as well. Throughout it all, he just ignored Trowa, who eventually gave up and went to stand outside in the corridor, and listen to what was going on with Duo.

They were going to keep him in overnight, just for observation. Trowa would have taken him home, but Treize just nodded, and then told Quatre there was no reason for all of them to have a sleepless night.

'But I can't just go home and leave you here!'

'Of course you can. Quatre, I'd like to be alone for a while. Perhaps Trowa can take you home?'

'No thank you.' Quatre threw Trowa a look that could have been marketed as an offensive weapon. Fuck, what was that all about? God, Trowa couldn't work out what the hell his problem was. 'I'll call a taxi. Or I can contact Rashid or someone to pick me up. Treize, I'll see you in the morning. Call me when he wakes up, please.' He stamped off, the air rippling off him vibrating with his anger...

'I'm sure you have your own strategy worked out, but this might, just possibly, be a good time to go after him.'

Trowa shrugged, not moving a muscle. 'I'll call him tomorrow. When he's calmed down a bit.'

One of those weird eyebrows lifted fractionally. 'I'm not sure if that particular tactic will work, with Quatre.'

'Why do you care?' Trowa asked bluntly. 'It's not like you want me to be with him.'

Treize didn't bother to deny it. 'I prefer not to see my friends unhappy.'

Oh, shit. It wasn't like he was going to get to spend any time with Duo anyway; Treize had every fucking advantage going. He was the one who'd get to stay in the hospital room for Duo; the nurses were already offering to wheel in an extra bed.

The blond was standing outside the main hospital door, 'phone in hand.

'Yes, I'm at St. Gabriel's. Really? That long? OK, I'll wait. I'm just outside the front door.'

'Hey. I'll drive you home.'

'No, thank you.'

'Quatre. It's late. A lot of places in town will be just closing up now. You'll be waiting for hours for a cab. And you'll freeze in the meantime.'

'I'm fine. Please go away.'

'No. You're being an idiot.'

'I said, _go away_,' Quatre snapped. 'Or I'll call security.'

'And tell them what? That your boyfriend wants to drive you home rather than leave you standing here by yourself for hours in the cold?'

'Perhaps I'll tell them that my _ex_-boyfriend is harassing me. My parents donate a great deal of money to this hospital; I imagine they'll take whatever I say seriously.'

'Fine.' Trowa stalked off, not bothering to look back.

Stupid, stubborn, spoilt brat. Fine, let him call Wufei or one of million other fancy friends.

When Trowa drove past the entrance, he'd sat down on one of the small benches outside the door, knees drawn up to his chin and arms wrapped around his ankles.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

He couldn't just leave him there.

Trowa swung the truck over and leaned over to open the passenger door; Quatre didn't even bother to look up.

'Either you get in now, or I'm waiting 'til you get a taxi. You can call security or the cops or anyone you damn well want, but I'm not leaving you here by yourself for God knows how long.'

'Fine.' Quatre flung the word in his face, swinging into the passenger seat and immediately turning to look out the window.

Lovely.

Trowa wasn't used to being the one who was frozen out. That wasn't his job.

It hurt.

'What the hell is wrong with you?'

He didn't think Quatre was going to answer at first. When he did speak, every word had icicles hanging off it.

'Oh, I don't know. Possibly the fact that you couldn't be bothered to inform me that one of my best friends had been in an accident.'

'_What_?' OK, he hadn't expected that. 'Quatre, I did call you.'

'When you eventually got around to thinking of me, yes. You were here for a couple of hours before that occurred to you. Duo and Treize are my friends, Trowa. I should have been here.'

'You couldn't have done anything,' Trowa told him, still unsure what the big problem was. 'Seriously, he they gave him an anaesthetic pretty much as soon as he got here. He was totally out of it.'

'_Love you, Tro.'_

Hell and damnation. It didn't mean anything. He'd been totally out of it.

'I wasn't talking about Duo.'

Oh. Treize. Of course. 'You don't have to worry about him, you know. He was perfectly calm.'

He'd stood by while his boyfriend had declared his love for another man, and he hadn't twitched one eyebrow.

'You don't know him at all, do you?' Quatre sounded mildly curious.

'No.' Trowa added the subtext mentally; he didn't want to. 'It didn't look like you were chewing him up over not calling you, the way you were snuggling up to him.'

'You're unbelievable, Barton,' Quatre snapped at him. 'You have simply no idea how worried he is about Duo, and you're _jealous_ of him. And no, I'm not angry at him for not calling; I imagine that was the last thing on his mind. You, on the other hand, are supposed to be my boyfriend.'

'It would have taken two seconds to call me.' Quatre spun around to face him. 'You never even thought about me, did you?'

'I called you as soon as I thought of it.'

'Yes, and that took how long? A couple of hours?'

'I've known Duo for fifteen years,' Trowa said heavily. 'I've known you for about that many days. He's pretty much the only person I've got that means anything. I'm sorry, Quatre, but you have to see how important he is.'

'And I'm your boyfriend. Aren't I remotely important?'

'_Ex_-boyfriend, you said a few minutes ago.' Trowa said it before he could stop himself.

The young man in the passenger seat sounded suspiciously like he was grinding his teeth.

Shit.

'I'm sorry, OK?' Trowa said finally. He wasn't big into apologising for things; the words felt a bit odd. 'It's just…I've known him for most of my life. He's….important to me. the only thing I've got that's remotely family. You know that.'

'I know.' For the first time, Quatre sounded a little more like himself, instead of this coldly distant stranger. 'I _know_. I understand that. But we're supposed to be a couple, Trowa. I'm supposed to be important too.'

'You are.'

'Am I really? I know how much Duo means to you, but surely I should be a factor in the equation, even if I'm never going to be a priority.'

'It's not like that. Look, I screwed up. I get it. I'm sorry.' He took a deep breath. 'Duo is the only person I've ever had that comes close to actual family. I just freaked out when Treize called. If one of your sisters got hurt, would I be the first person you'd call?'

'No.' Quatre, who was warm and impulsive and loving, could have been an ice sculpture in the seat beside him. 'But then, it's not really the same, is it? Duo's my friend too, even if I don't have this connection with him that you have. I care about him. And you have made it very clear that you're not interested in anything to do with my family.'

'That's not true.'

'How is it not true?' Quatre demanded, and Trowa decided that anger was better than that searing iciness. 'You have refused, very emphatically, to meet any of them. Does it not occur to you that it might be hurtful for me, having a boyfriend who refuses to have anything to do with the most important people in my life?'

'And does it not occur to you that your family is damned intimidating to someone like me?' Trowa didn't realise he was shouting until he was finished. 'Because they are, Quatre. 'I grew up on the streets. I don't fucking know how to act around people like that.'

'You know how to act around me.' Quatre spoke very quietly, one hand resting on Trowa's arm, like a promise.

'Badly, most of the time,' Trowa muttered, and then pulled the truck into a lay-by. 'Listen, if I'm going to apologise properly, I need to concentrate. I'll go to this anniversary party if that's what you want. I don't want to lose you.'

The sudden loud click was Quatre's seatbelt being opened. Then he was almost in Trowa's lap. 'I don't want you to do anything that will make you uncomfortable.'

'I'll survive.' He pulled Quatre properly against him, stroking the blond hair. 'I get that I fucked up. I _am_ sorry. But he means a lot to me. That's not going to change, Quatre. Ever.' He dropped a kiss on the top of the blond's head. 'Hey, he's just one person. You've practically got a whole tribe of your own.'

Quatre gave him a faint smile.

'Hey, I was thinking about the anniversary present. You said their cat died last year. There's a colour in Siamese cats called Red Point. I thought that'd be a cool Fortieth present. They're pretty rare in Sanque, but I did some research on line and there's a breeder in Nova with a litter. I talked to her yesterday and asked if she could hold one of the Reds. We could drive up and take a look if you wanted. They should be ready just in time for the party.'

'Oh. That was very thoughtful of you.' Damn, he actually sounded surprised at that. 'But I went shopping tonight. I already got their present.'

'Yeah? What is it?'

'It's a crystal decanter and a set of glasses. Wufei took it home when he dropped me at the hospital. I didn't want to carry it around with me all night.'

'Wufei? As in Chang?'

'As he's the only Wufei, I know, yes,' Quatre said tartly.

Trowa snorted. 'And you thought _I_ was the one who'd found someone else? Didn't take you long to find a replacement for me tonight, did you? Sorry I messed up your date with my inconvenient phone call.'

'It wasn't a _date_!' Quatre snapped. 'When I realised you weren't going to come, I went out for dinner. I happened to meet Wufei; that's all. I was upset and he was nice to me. I don't want to be with someone who sees me as second-best, Trowa. I'm not Duo, I'm nothing like him. If Duo and Treize broke up tomorrow, you'd leave me, wouldn't you? If you had even the faintest hope of getting him?'

'We both know they're not going to break up,' Trowa said heavily.

'I said _if_!'

'How is it any different from you running to Wufei every time I screw up? That's hardly an ideal relationship either.'

'I didn't run to him,' Quatre said acidly. 'We just happened to meet. I didn't go out looking for him.'

'Where does that leave us, then? Both in love with other people?'

'But it's not the same. Yes, I'm attracted to Wufei. I'm sorry, but it's true. I still _chose_ you. You're just with me as a substitute.'

'No. Quatre, it's not like that at all. Like you said, you're _you_. And you're amazing; you could never just be a substitute. I accepted a long time ago how Duo felt about Treize, but it still hurts, sometimes. I think I'm over him, and then they have one of their fights and he turns up at my place, or…I don't know. It's all pretty messed up.'

'Were you ever lovers?'

'The way we grew up, sex was ….. not a good thing. You wouldn't know. I never wanted Duo to have anyone hurt him like that, and shit, you know what he looks like. I dinned it into him that it hurt, that it was always about pain and control, and how he had to be careful. He was just a kid on L2 anyway; it wasn't like anything would have happened between us. When we got to Earth, it was….things were better. We had our own place, and I thought maybe….'

'And then he met Treize?' Quatre supplied softly.

'And then he met Treize. I told you, Quatre, I'm shit at this stuff. You'd be better off with Chang.'

'You can't possibly know that!'

'Yeah, I can. Listen, you know hardly anything about me. I'm not exactly the sort of guy who'll fit into your lifestyle, I'm definitely not the sort of guy your family would want you to be with.'

'Can you please stop shouting?' Quatre asked suddenly. 'Just for a second.'

'Yeah. Sorry.' He hadn't even realised he'd been doing it.

'I hate fighting,' Quatre confided softly.

Trowa nodded, pressing his lips to the top of the blond head snuggled under his chin. 'D'you think you could live with the way I feel about Duo? I'm never going to stop caring about him.'


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the GW universe.

Note: Many thanks to KS for editing, and for helping Zechs with the painting, and to my dauntless reviewers.

**Chapter 27:**

_In which Quatre sets the perfect seduction scene and Trowa is seduced._

When Trowa woke, it was almost seven o'clock and he was alone in Quatre's bed, and actually sorry not to have the blond there curled around him.

Both odd.

Quatre liked to snuggle, he was the first man Trowa had ever met who used the word without being sarcastic. He didn't see the point of sharing a bed with someone and sleeping on opposite sides. Trowa had never considered himself a snuggler, although he rather liked Quatre's interpretation of it. He normally disliked sharing a bed with anyone, period, once the actual sex was done with.

And he'd apparently slept the whole night through and he never did that. Especially not after seeing Duo like that in hospital; he hadn't expected to sleep a wink.

It felt good, waking up in Quatre's bed, in his room.

After he'd driven the blond home, Quatre had jumped out of the truck and stood on the pavement, the streetlight turning his hair to gold. He hadn't said anything for a minute, and Trowa thought that was that, even after he'd endured that fucking nightmare conversation. Duo would be pissed with him, and he'd miss the blond's bright presence in his life; his capacity for endless blateration about nothing and those sudden, surprising moments of connection. Then Quatre had hold out his hand, and asked him in for a drink, and halfway through the bottle of wine, suggested taking it upstairs.

Trowa had assumed that meant sex, because that was why you invited people into your bed. It hadn't happened, though. They'd just lain face to face, kissing and touching a little, and talking until they'd both fallen asleep. It had been oddly nice, like being part of a couple.

Quatre's room, which he hadn't really noticed the previous night, was unexpectedly simple, once you got past the huge, canopied bed. Nothing at all like the cheerfully cluttered rooms downstairs. It occurred to Trowa, glancing around, that most visitors probably never got past them.

This room was incredibly relaxing.

There was a well-filled bookshelf; he had thrillers and detective stories downstairs, and a few books on art and travel. Up here, it was all philosophy and world religions and literature.

There was a carved Buddha with gold-tipped curls smiling benevolently down at him from the opposite wall, and a lovely little frieze of Balinese temple dancers that had to be ancient, and was probably worth a fortune.

And the painting. He'd half noticed that before falling asleep; had vaguely planned to tease Quatre about being the only person he'd ever met who kept a self-portrait over his bed. Well, apart from Duo, but that was presumably Treize's doing.

Looking at it properly, in daylight, he knew he wouldn't be doing that.

It was a younger Quatre, with his hair in a floppy, unkempt fringe. He was wearing black, and he'd told Trowa once that he never wore black; that it didn't suit his colouring. Even Trowa, who had no interest in clothes, couldn't imagine him wearing that sort of suit in real life; black and severely tailored.

He was cradling a violin in his lap, the fingers of one hand touching it. There was a piano downstairs, but he'd never mentioned playing the violin.

He was sitting in a dark room, panelled with unadorned wood and through the arched window there was a building that blazed with sunlight and metal and jewels, shining against a blue sky.

And Quatre, his Quatre, was sitting alone wearing clothes the colour of death, and looking utterly forlorn.

He had darkness in his past too, then.

It was a Merquise, of course. Zechs saw too much, and then put it on canvas for all the world to see. Trowa had always refused to pose properly, but Zechs had done a few sketches from memory. Just simple charcoal line drawings; never Trowa's face. He'd always been good at knowing where the boundaries were.

Trowa pulled on the previous night's clothes, and went looking for his boyfriend.

He hadn't realised there was a roof garden until he ran out of places to look for Quatre, and noticed the small spiral staircase. Breakfast was laid out on a patio table that looked like it had been made out of driftwood. Juice and fruit and a couple of baskets filled with scones and croissants.

And Quatre, dressed more casually than Trowa had ever seen him, in blue jeans and a loose t-shirt inscribed with the legend _Blonds Are More Fun_, was flat on the ground at his feet, midway through the Salute to the Sun.

Trowa had done yoga himself for years. Quatre made it look simple, that lovely body flowing into the different movements. Then he noticed Trowa and lost his balance.

'Oops.' He jumped up, laughing but still obviously a little bit self-conscious. Hmmm. He'd said last night, fussing over finding Trowa a toothbrush and towels and toiletries, that he wasn't used to overnight guests. That probably meant he wasn't used to having people up here, in what was very obviously his personal space.

And Trowa Barton had penetrated the inner sanctum. In a sense. Trowa grinned suddenly. It caught him off guard sometimes; the way a sudden spurt of happiness could be gleaned out of nothingness. No, he corrected. It wasn't nothing. Quatre was smiling at him, with sunbeams dancing in his hair, and the sun was shining, and he could smell freshly baked pastries.

Not _nothing_ at all.

'Sorry. I hadn't realised you were awake. I just called Treize; Duo's awake, he's fine, and they've started a few more tests.'

'Why bother with tests if he's fine?'

'I think it's hospital policy, with head injuries. But he's all right. I thought we could have breakfast first, and then drive over to see him.'

Trowa almost – almost – said he wasn't hungry, that he wanted to leave straightaway, but Quatre had obviously taken care to set all of this up. There was even honey and jam in small crystal bowls, and a little vase of flowers.

'Quatre, you didn't have to do all of this for me.'

'It's for both of us. I was going to bring you breakfast in bed, but it's such a lovely morning I thought we should eat outside. '

'This is great.' Trowa glanced around in pure pleasure. This high above the city, there was no traffic noise. No noise at all, apart from birdsong and the hum of bees and the splash of a small fountain. You could see right over the harbour to the mountains beyond. There were carefully tended flowers and herbs in earthenware pots, and a small greenhouse in the corner, and an array of birdfeeders and fat, gleaming goldfish in a series of terraced ponds. The Siamese cat was sitting by the side of one, occasionally dipping a paw in the water, and withdrawing it in disgust, shaking off droplets of water.

'Thank you.' Quatre sounded pleased at the compliment. 'Zechs helped me to design it, and my parents' gardeners built it. I spend hours up here, sometimes.'

'I would too.' He kept noticing new things; wind chimes dangling from a clematis-smothered trellis, and a stone carving of Ganesh, the Hindu elephant god that looked centuries old, and a cushioned swing seat. 'There's really so much money in lifestyle coaching?'

Quatre grinned. 'There's really so much money in my trust fund, thank heavens.'

'Living off inherited wealth,' Trowa mused. 'You don't think that's immoral?'

The blond bubbled into laughter. 'I could ask you a similar question, couldn't I?'

'Ouch.' Trowa found he was smiling back, wandering over to touch the little statue. 'You really like Eastern stuff, don't you? I'm starting to doubt your dizzy blond credentials.'

'Oh, heavens, don't do that. Let's see, I spent an hour last night trying to decide what to wear, and this morning I couldn't work out why it was taking so long to boil the kettle and then I realised I hadn't plugged it in.' He laughed. 'I'm such an airhead. Now, what sort of croissants do you like? Almond or chocolate?'

It was a seduction, Trowa mused. All of it. This garden high above the city, heady with the scent of jasmine. Sunlight glistening on water, and on the glistening goldfish in their pond, and the play of the little fountain.

This must have been how Duo had felt, when he met Treize.

It wasn't fair, really to say that, and Trowa knew it. Duo would have fallen for Treize if he'd been a road-sweeper or a thief or even a lawyer, most likely.

It hadn't stopped him from saying awful, unforgivable things to Duo, about whoring himself out.

Duo had forgiven him, of course, because they always forgave each other, eventually.

Trowa took a bite of the croissant Quatre had given him, very deliberately not looking at the little blond.

It wasn't the same. He had a perfectly good life of his own. He had the house he'd always dreamed of, and a job he loved, and a few close friends. Finding sex was never a problem; Trowa wasn't vain but he knew well enough what he looked like and he'd exploited it often enough.

He didn't need to be Quatre Winner's toy-boy. Apart from the fact that Quatre was probably a bit younger than he was.

'How old are you?'

Blue eyes blinked at the sudden question. 'Twenty five. Why?'

'I'm too old to be your toy boy.'

Quatre grinned. 'I don't believe in being ageist. How old are you anyway?'

'Twenty seven.'

'An older man.' Quatre leaned over and kissed him briefly on the mouth. He tasted of orange juice and toothpaste.

'Thank you.' He meant, for everything, and Quatre seemed to pick up on that. 'Seriously. This is a great way to start the morning. Thanks for letting me see this place. It's perfect.'

'Well, I'm glad you like it.' Quatre put down his glass and wandered over to the fish pond, dabbling one hand for his fish to nibble. 'I love water.' Quatre said by way of explanation, glancing up and seeing Trowa looking at him. 'My grandparents came from Jordan; they used to tell us stories about how our ancestors had been nomads; about how precious water had been to them.'

'They used to ration water supplies on L2,' Trowa said idly, moving to sit beside him and trailing one hand in the pond, wondering if the fish would come to him. 'Not for everyone; if you could afford it, you could have water piped to your house. If you couldn't, you had to queue up every day and there was never quite enough.'

Trowa had given his first blow job at the water supply office. The guy in charge of distribution gave out extra rations in exchange for certain favours. It was something you did. After, the asshole had tried to back out on the deal, claiming Trowa's mouth had already swallowed enough.

He'd been seven.

'That's so awful,' Quatre said softly.

For a terrible moment, Trowa thought he'd spoken that particular memory aloud and then realised that Quatre meant the water shortage thing.

'Yeah. There were ways of getting extra, sometimes. It wasn't like anyone ever died of thirst. And you got used to it.'

He remembered Duo being upset one day, not long after they'd met, because some older kids on the street had laughed at him, and told him he smelled bad. They'd always had water in the orphanage where he'd been before; the kids had got to wash properly every day.

He'd hugged Duo and told him that of course he didn't smell bad.

In the present, he took a swallow of juice from a crystal glass, poured for him by one of the richest guys in Sanque and shook his head.

'A world away from here.'

'I imagine so.' Quatre, who could have no possible conception of how he and Duo had grown up, agreed. 'Was it awful?'

Trowa shrugged. 'Duo's your friend. I'm sure he's told you stuff.'

'A little. He always tries to make it sound like an adventure, growing up there, but I know it wasn't really, was it?'

Trowa wouldn't have answered if he hadn't been looking directly at the blond, and seen the glowing affection in his eyes. Concern, not pity. That was bearable.

'Yeah, pretty much.' He took a deep breath, tapping one fingernail against the side of his glass. Antique Waterford crystal. Naturally. 'The place was run by gangs; still is, as far as I know. When I was a kid, I used to hang 'round this gang called The Mercenaries. I ran errands and kept watch sometimes, and got into places that were too small for an adult to fit. There were a few of us; street kids, and the gang leader looked out for us. Kurt was an OK guy. Well, for a drug-dealing, murderous criminal. He made sure we got fed, had a place to stay, that no one touched us. I was eight, I think, when he got killed in a knife fight. The guy who'd killed him wasn't so great.' He sipped at his drink, the cool, sweet liquid dancing over his tongue.

'A couple of years later, I met Duo. That changed everything. I thought the way I lived was just the way things were; the only way to survive was to get to be bigger and meaner than anyone else so no one could ever touch you. Duo was different. He'd lived in this orphanage with nice people who'd taken care of him.'

Trowa shook his head, letting the bangs fall over his eyes, remembering Duo back then. Innocence and vulnerability and fierce determination that they could somehow get away, make a better life for themselves. He'd never met anyone who felt like that before. The best most people hoped for, on L2, was to clamour to the top of the shitheap and stay there until someone stronger took you down.

'He always says you looked after him, that he wouldn't have survived without you.'

'Duo's a survivor, whatever he says. And once he was old enough to handle himself, he looked after me, not the other way around. He killed a guy once who'd been trying to hurt me. He was twelve. He ever tell you that?'

Quatre's eyes, aquamarine with the bright morning sunlight, were huge. 'No.'

'Duo's tough.' Trowa blinked suddenly, remembering his friend the previous night, dressed in a sickly green hospital gown and so desperately wanting to go home. No, not home; Romfeller, which was his home now, no matter how much it hurt to acknowledge it.

'It was his idea to leave L2. He planned it all pretty much.' Trowa didn't bother to say that at that point they'd had to leave. Duo had won a fight he wasn't supposed to; against a guy who hadn't relished losing to a kid in his early teens. Too many people had lost money. They could maybe have handled that but the loser, a guy with all the wrong friends in powerful places and a brother who ran guns, had tried to jump Duo and died on Trowa's blade.

They'd been planning to leave anyway, once they'd got some money together, but that night, they'd stowed away on the first shuttle out of the space port. It had just happened to be going to some little country in Europe that neither of them had ever heard of.

'I'm very glad you ended up in Sanque,' Quatre said, after Trowa had told him a slightly censored version of how they'd come to be there. He sounded like he meant it. His eyes had sparkled when Trowa had talked about stowing away on the ship. He'd probably grown up reading pirate stories, or having them read to him by a nanny or something.

'What happened then?' He sounded like a little kid, engrossed in a bed time story. Like it was all just an unimaginable fantasy. Well, it probably was. A nightmare, if he'd heard it all.

'Hasn't Duo told you any of this?' Trowa stood up abruptly, feeling a sudden pang of hunger. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten properly; lunchtime the previous day maybe. He filled a plate and settled on the swing seat, absurdly pleased when Quatre jumped up and sat beside him.

'Well, yes, but it's nice hearing you talk about it. That was seven years ago, wasn't it?' Quatre prompted, obviously determined to get the whole story.

'Yeah.' Trowa said it around a mouthful of croissant. He didn't really mind talking about this part of his life, and Quatre probably knew most of it from Duo anyway. 'Let's see. What happened? We hadn't a freaking clue where we were once we sneaked off. Hadn't a clue where Sanque was once we found out. We had to go into this public library and look it up. We lived rough for a couple of weeks. No, it was fine,' he assured Quatre, ruffling the blond's hair and trying not to laugh at his concerned expression.

'It was early summer, and warm enough that you could sleep out, no problem. We found this really great park. You could just lie under a tree and look up and see the branches against the sky, and the stars, and wake up with the birds singing. Neither of us would have traded that for the classiest hotel room in the universe. Then…we did a couple of little jobs. You know what I'm talking about, right?'

Quatre nodded.

'Man, it was so easy after L2. Anyway, we got some cash together, and rented a little apartment, and we had an actual home, and managed to get some fake papers. We'd planned to move on once we had passports; Duo wanted to see Venice and I really wanted to go to France, but we kind of got fond of Sanque. Got proper work permits and all; well, I did. Duo was only fourteen or so. I got all sorts of odd jobs; just to get on the computer system here. I actually worked on a construction site not far from here; that office building on the corner.'

Blue-green eyes twinkled at him. 'Really? Did you have a hard hat? And jeans that slipped halfway down your ass?'

'Of course,' Trowa said solemnly. 'They're obligatory.' He winked, taking care to brush against Quatre's arm as he reached for another pastry. 'I still have them. I'll dress up for you sometime if you're good.'

Quatre gave a satisfactory little shiver. 'I'd like that. What was Duo doing? He met Howard soon after you arrived here, didn't he?'

'Yep.' He gave Quatre a little nudge with one elbow. 'You already know all this. Why'm I wasting my time telling you?'

'Because I want you to!' Quatre gazed up at him beseechingly. 'Please, Trowa.'

'OK.' Trowa gave a long-suffering sigh, which made Quatre laugh, and then a quick kiss, which produced another shiver. 'Howie was the guy who made us the fake passports. It was this little sideline to his art restoration business. He and Duo clicked from the word go; Duo started hanging out at his studio when I was working. I wasn't too crazy about it; thought Howie was after something, so we had a little chat one day and I told him if anyone ever hurt Duo, I'd kill them. Just so he knew the score.'

Quatre shivered again; not a good shiver this time.

'Sorry. You did ask. Anyway, I'd got it wrong. Howard's a great guy. He took Duo on as a sort of apprentice. Well, took us both on in the end.'

That was true. Howard's ramshackle, tumble-down shabby home had become something of a second home for them. There was always beer and food in the fridge and Howard had never pressed them to talk about anything, just offered casual advice and easy, undemanding friendship. So weird; someone who hadn't wanted anything in return. Duo had had no problem accepting that from the word go. Trowa had been much warier, but he'd been won over too, in the end.

'Duo said he was your…fence? Is that right?' He pronounced the word awkwardly, like it was from an unfamiliar foreign language.

'God, Duo talks too much. Listen, I'm only telling you this because Duo's already told you most of it, and he trusts you. Yeah, he handled some of our jobs. He had the right contracts. You need that starting out.'

Quatre, surprisingly, laughed. 'You make it sound so…normal. Like any other business venture.'

'There's plenty of so-called legitimate business ventures that are a damn sight more screwed up than plain theft,' Trowa said sharply. 'We never stole a thing from someone who might actually have missed it. Hell, most of the paintings were buried in vaults underground and hadn't been looked at in decades. Stolen, plenty of them.'

'I wasn't being judgemental! Paintings shouldn't be treated like that. They deserve to be looked at, to be enjoyed.'

Trowa arched an eyebrow at him. 'Really? Your parents invite the public into their house to gawk at their art collection, do they?'

'My parents lend their artworks to galleries and exhibitions all over the world, actually,' Quatre snapped. 'And you can't exactly take a moral stance. You've got a Zechs Merquise in your living room. How many people have seen that?'

'You've got an answer for everything, haven't you?' Trowa was amused more than anything. It was fun getting Quatre all riled up. 'You're the one with a Merquise over his bed. How many people have seen that?'

'Hmm?' Quatre suddenly became engrossed in spreading butter on his scone.

'I saw that painting in your room. I didn't know you played the violin.'

'Oh, that.' The blond added a dollop of jam. 'I don't. I used to, when I was younger. I was never very good. Duo told me you play the flute; what sort of music do you like?'

'Celtic mostly. Some classical.'

'There are some lovely duets for piano and flutes,' Quatre said eagerly. 'We'll have to play together sometime, don't you think?'

'I'm thinking we could play together right now. No neighbours to shock, all the way up here. No one to hear you screaming my name when you come.' Well, assuming one of them didn't use Wufei's name by mistake, Trowa thought grimly, and then gave himself a mental kick in the ass. He wasn't going to think about that guy.

'That sounds so much fun!'

He suddenly had Quatre wrapped around him, those slender denim-clad legs straddling his thighs.

'How _exactly_ do you plan to make me scream, Mr. Barton?'

'Oh, I have all sorts of ideas.' Bending his head to kiss Quatre's lush, smiling mouth, he thought briefly of Duo. But Treize was with him, and they'd head straight to the hospital once the screaming was over. And a bit of sighing, and maybe a long shared shower…


	28. Chapter 28

Disclaimer: I don't own the GW characters.

Pairings: 13x2, 3x4, 1+R, 5+6.

**Chapter 28:**

_In which Wufei goes on a date with a blond who isn't Quatre…_

Wufei had always loved living alone; loved unlocking his door at the end of the day and knowing he would have as much as he chose for himself. He'd stopped feeling that way recently. At some point, returning home to a cold, empty apartment had become depressing and lonely, rather than peaceful and undemanding.

Turning his key in the door, he could imagine walking into a warm, bright room, filled with the ripple of Quatre's bright laughter, or the rare, sudden smile he'd seen flash across Trowa's face.

Damn.

He'd vowed to stop thinking about them, both of them. After spending that last evening with Quatre, he'd gone home full of hope that something might be possible. He'd meant what he said, about trying to win the blond back. Trowa rather obviously didn't deserve him. Then Quatre had called the next day, and that hope had shrivelled. He'd been sweetly and sincerely apologetic for how he'd behaved. He'd been depressed over Trowa apparently dumping him, but that had all been sorted out somehow, and he wanted to let Wufei know that friendship was all he was capable of giving. Anything else wouldn't be fair to Trowa.

Trowa.

Always Trowa. Wufei switched on the kettle, and found his favourite blend of tea. He'd left messages on Trowa's phone, none of which had been returned. The message was all too clear; leave me alone.

Well, of course. He had Quatre. What else did he need?

'Not me, that's for sure,' Wufei informed his cup gloomily.

It was no use. He'd found the perfect person – actually, two perfect people, a niggling little voice in his brain suggested – and they'd found each other first. An honourable man would do the right thing and just leave the two of them alone.

He'd always prided himself on being an honourable man, even if his actions of late hadn't actually supported the fact.

Of _course _Trowa wanted nothing to do with him, after how he'd behaved. And he'd been nothing more than a convenient shoulder for Quatre to cry on, until he got back with Trowa.

No more. He was going to move on. He had a date with an incredibly attractive man; a man whose paintings he admired tremendously and who'd seemed very taken with him.

Time to cut his losses and leave those two to work out their own relationship.

Trowa apparently never wanted to see him again, and it probably wasn't in anyone's best interests for him to spend so much time with Quatre.

Onwards.

'Talking to yourself?' a voice enquired behind him. Wufei jumped approximately three feet in the air and came down prepared to pulverise whoever had invaded his home, his sanctuary.

'I did knock,' Heero said mildly. 'Sorry.'

'The door was locked.' Wufei wasn't even sure why he'd said that; Heero wouldn't have cared about such a minor impediment.

'You didn't answer and I could hear you inside. I wanted to ask you something and I only have a few minutes. I'm supposed to be going to dinner with Relena's parents. Some tea would be nice if you've got it ready.'

'Tea, fine.' Wufei measured out two spoonfuls. 'What did you want?'

'I'm looking for an estate agent. I thought you might be able to recommend someone.'

'Really? I didn't think you and Relena were planning to set up your little love nest so soon.'

'There's no need to be facetious, Chang. It's just for me. I'm spending more time here than I'd planned, and I'm sick of living in a hotel. I might as well buy a small apartment and have my own base.'

Wufei nodded, pouring two cups of steaming, scented tea. 'I actually found this place on line. I can give you the website if you like.'

Heero took a first cautious sip of his tea. 'I don't have time for all of that. I know exactly what I want; I just need some efficient company to find me a short list of potential places that I can look at in the next day or so, and then move straight in.'

'I can ask Meiran tomorrow if you like. She and her boyfriend bought a house a couple of months ago. Or actually, I could ask Quatre for you; it sounds like something he'd be able to do.'

'Any excuse to talk to him, eh?' Heero teased. 'I didn't know he was into property management.'

'Oh, he's not. But he seems to know everyone in Sanque and he'd probably love snooping around apartments for you. And from what I can gather, he does anything and everything that his clients want.'

'Anything, really?' Heero gave him a quizzical grin. 'Maybe you should employ him. Although I suppose if things are going well, you don't need to.'

Wufei groaned into his cup. 'Things aren't going well at all. He and Trowa are fine; apparently a friend of Trowa's had had an accident and he rushed off to the hospital without telling Quatre what was going on. Understandable, I suppose, in the circumstances.'

'You told me you were planning to get him back.'

Wufei shrugged. 'What's the point in even trying? He's happy enough with Trowa. I was stupid, to think because they'd had a row, that they were finished, and that I had a chance with him.'

Heero raised a dark eyebrow. 'With which of them? The beautiful blond, who was virtually made for you, or the sinfully sexy Mr. Barton?'

'Oh, Gods, don't _you_ start fancying them. My life is more than complicated enough. Anyway, I don't have a chance with either of them. Quatre's made it very clear that he wants us to be nothing more than friends, and Trowa is pretending I don't exist. Not that I blame him, after how I've behaved.'

Heero grinned. 'Would you like me to fetch your katana so you can slice off a few fingers as an extra punishment? From what you've said, Quatre changes his mind about what he wants every time the wind changes direction, and I'm sure Trowa is every bit as freaked out by all this as you are. And you're not going to get either of them by brooding about what a terrible person you are. Quatre's been flirting with you since you first met, regardless of how many boyfriends he's supposed to have, and from what you've said, Trowa didn't exactly object to your attentions.'

'It doesn't make any difference. They're together.' Wufei got up to make more tea. 'The last time I saw Quatre I was so sure I could win him back.'

'So what's changed?'

'Quatre. Apparently, he and Trowa have had some long talks about their relationship, and he seems happy, and I suppose I have to respect what he wants.'

'Why don't you pour some of that boiling water on your hand for a little extra suffering?' Heero suggested cheerfully. 'Faint heart never won fair lady. Or gentleman. If you want him, tell him how you feel and let him make his choice based on that.'

He hadn't bothered to elaborate which _him_. Wufei glared at him.

'Thanks for the advice, Yuy. Might be more effective if you followed it yourself.'

Heero, who was being absurdly cheerful these days, just grinned. 'Well, my situation is rather different. I'd better go; give Quatre a call for me, will you? I have a couple of hours free tomorrow evening.'

'Right. Enjoy dinner with your future in-laws.'

Like Heero had said, it was an excuse to call. He hadn't spoken to Quatre that day although they'd been playing 'phone tag since that morning. He waited to call until he'd showered, changed and cleaned up the kitchen. He wasn't putting it off, he told himself sternly; just getting everything out of the way first.

'Wufei!' Quatre sounded as if no other voice on the 'phone could possibly have given him more pleasure. 'How lovely to hear from you! I'm sorry I kept missing you today. I've been insanely busy.'

'Me too,' Wufei said hurriedly. 'I'm actually calling about a possible job for you, if you'd be interested. My friend Heero is planning to buy a small apartment here and I thought you might be able to help. Or to recommend a reliable estate agent?'

'Oh, I'd love to help. What fun! Can you give me his number?'

'Of course.' Wufei reeled it off, and Heero's email address as well. 'He's in rather a hurry since he's flying back to Japan next week, and he'd like to have a place before he goes. I'd better let you go; I'm going out for dinner.'

'Wufei,' Quatre said quietly. 'I'm sorry. Truly. The other night, I said things I shouldn't have. I let you say things to me…anyway, I'm sorry.'

'That's all right.' Wufei tried to sound understanding; it didn't really work. 'You'd just had a row with your boyfriend. You were upset. I shouldn't have got involved.'

There was a soft sigh on the other end of the phone. 'You don't have to apologise. Do you think we could maybe meet up lunch or something soon? I'd like to think we're still friends. Are we?'

'Quatre.' Wufei hesitated over what to say next, and then said it anyway. 'I don't know. You're with somebody and we both know I want to be more than your friend. I don't want to be the one you run to whenever something goes wrong with Trowa. That isn't fair.'

'No. Of course it's not. I'm sorry. Is this it, then, for us?'

'Stop being such a drama queen,' Wufei scolded. A sensible man, undoubtedly, would call a halt to all of this now. but he didn't really like to envisage his life without Quatre's voice calling him out of the blue to say he'd found the most darling little teashop, or to tell some long, dramatic story of why he'd missed that morning's train but he'd love to meet up at lunchtime, or Quatre's utter enthusiasm for life. 'Yes, we're still friends.'

'Oh, goody! I'm so pleased! And tonight's your date with Zechs, isn't it? What are you going to wear?'

Wufei had to laugh at that; if he'd called to say Quatre he'd been sentenced to life imprisonment, the blond would no doubt start looking up different styles and colours for jumpsuits. 'My dark suit and that blue shirt you got me to buy on Monday.'

'Not the blue shirt,' Quatre said instantly. 'You should wear that lovely dark red silk one.. Much better with your colouring. And I wouldn't bother wearing the suit jacket; it's a bit too formal. Your new black jeans would be perfect, unless it's somewhere with a strict dress code. Where is he taking you?'

'The Refinery.'

'Lovely choice for a first date,' Quatre approved. 'Intimate and quiet, but not too overpoweringly romantic. I hope you have a wonderful time.'

'Thanks. I'd better go if I have to get changed, _again_. Some of us actually like to be punctual.' He could peals of laughter as he hung up.

As Quatre had said, the Refinery was the perfect choice for a first date. Zechs was already seated at a table on the terrace; they both obviously believed in being on time. He looked wonderful in one of those flowing Italian suits you could only wear if you were very tall. His eyes, in the candlelight, were very blue and warmly appraising. The red had been a good choice, apparently.

'Amazing. You actually look better in silk than you did in leather.'

'Thank you.' Wufei sat down, trying to sound unruffled. After all, he wasn't a gauche fifteen-year-old to be flustered by extravagant compliments.

'I hope you drink champagne?' Zechs gestured to the bottle on the table, and a waiter rushed forward to pour a second glass.

'I do, yes. Are you celebrating something?'

'Most certainly. I sold two paintings today for ridiculously extortionate sums, and I have you sitting across the table from me. Oh, and my absolutely favourite dessert is on the menu tonight.'

Wufei laughed, suddenly finding he was enjoying himself. 'What's that?'

'Rhubarb and strawberry crumble with whipped cream.' Zechs licked his lips at the thought of it, and Wufei suddenly had to cross his legs.

Oh dear.

'To dessert,' Zechs clinked his glass against Wufei's, smiling. 'Now, I can think of three reasons why you accepted my invitation. Either Quat talked you into it, or you're trying to make him jealous, or you've decided to given up on him and move on. Which is it?'

'Which do you think?' He hadn't expected that sort of directness. He hadn't really known what they'd end up talking about.

Zechs laughed, tilting his head to one side so a white-gold waterfall of hair rippled down his back. 'Well, speaking out of pure self interest, the second would suit me perfectly. If you really want him to be jealous, you'd probably end up in bed with me and obviously I wouldn't object to that.' He pursed his lips, considering. 'On the other hand, I hope you're not so enthralled by Quatre that you're indulging him quite that much, and I'd rather not be your rebound guy, since that implies you've decided to grab the first male who doesn't totally repulse you. Now, how did I do?'

Wufei took a long swallow of wine. 'Since we're being honest, apparently, I should tell you that I'm probably not over him, but he's made it very clear that he's with Trowa. As for trying to make him jealous?' He grinned, seeing the humour mirrored in the other man's face. 'I don't think that would work. He was delighted when I told you him we were going out together, but that wasn't why I accepted. Actually, I'm not sure if I even remember accepting so much as being told I was going out with you.'

Zechs' mouth quirked. 'At the bike rally, yes. I must have been having one of my masterful days. The atmosphere of all that leather and testosterone, you know. Do you always do what you're told?'

'Hardly ever,' Wufei grinned back. 'Honestly, I'm here because I wanted to see you again. I wouldn't have come otherwise.' It was true, he realised suddenly. 'Regardless of what Quatre may have wanted.' He sat back in his chair, studying the other man. 'You know, the first time I saw Quatre, you were dancing with him. I assumed you were together.'

Zechs didn't immediately deny it, taking a sip of his drink. 'Oh, you don't have to worry about that.'

'You kissed him.'

'Well, I defy any red blooded male in the universe to have the lovely Quatre in his arms and _not_ kiss him. It's utterly impossible. But anything else between us is ancient history. What is it they say; you can't step in the same river twice?'

Wufei sniffed. It wasn't really that much of a surprise; he'd known there had to have been something more than friendship there.

'Don't worry. I have had a _grand passion_ in my life but it wasn't Quatre. I wouldn't worry about Trowa too much either. Quat's enjoying the novelty of having a boyfriend who isn't fawning at his feet, but it won't last. Let him have his little adventure. He's very fond of you, you know.'

Wufei shook his head, trying to process this. 'You're trying to fix me up with Quatre on what's supposed to be a date?'

'Oh, it's very much a date, I assure you. Wufei, shall we both honest with each other. We may both have other romantic goals in the long term, but there's no reason why we can't enjoy each other's company along the way, is there?'

'No reason at all.' Wufei raised his own glass in a toast. 'To friendship?'

'Possibly a little more than mere friendship?' One blond brow arched; the fair skin beneath was slightly flushed.

'Possibly.'

There'd been a man in Paris; a German sculptor who was teaching at the Sorbonne University for a year, and they'd had a very….French love affair. Two foreigners in the world's most romantic city, they'd taken long walks in the city and evening cruises on the Seine and explored churches and cafes and quirky little shops. Neither of them had ever planned for it to last; but it had been a perfect four months.

There hadn't been anyone at all since returning to Sanque, apart from a few kisses stolen from Quatre and Trowa. Zechs was single and extremely attractive and interested in him. What else was he supposed to do? Stay celibate until Quatre had another argument with Trowa and the pendulum swung back in his direction?

'I think I'd like that.' He nudged Zechs' foot under the table, smiling when Zechs pressed back.

'Good. Are you ready to order now?'

'Bruschetta to start,' Wufei decided, glancing at the menu. 'And then I'll have the salmon fettuccine.'

'No dessert?'

'Perhaps later.' Wufei dropped his eyes to the table, long lashes fanning his cheeks. 'You did suggest at the bike rally that you could paint me for dessert?'

Zechs reached across the table to squeeze his hand. 'Did I really? How presumptuous of me. If you're interested, I'm sure the kitchen here would pack up a dessert for us to take home?'

Black eyes met blue, and Wufei nodded. 'I'd like that.'

The rest of the meal passed by in a heady whirl of excellent food and drink, and laughter and the undivided attention of Zechs Merquise.

There was a little discreet groping in the taxi, and then Zechs left him in his studio while he went to fetch drinks. There were a couple of half-finished paintings stacked against the wall; a large grey dog sprawled on a rug, and an abstract in oils that could have been Armageddon or a the heart of a firework.

There were smaller sketches, in pen or charcoal, on a table in one corner. A delicate line drawing of the city's new opera house; seagulls in flight over the harbour; an old lady, smiling; and a young man whom Wufei knew.

'That's Duo Maxwell.'

Zechs nodded, handing Wufei a glass of wine. 'Do you know him?'

'Not very well. I've met him through work a few times. He sold my friend Heero a painting a couple of weeks ago. I think Heero took rather a shine to him.'

'Oh, everyone falls in love with Duo,' Zechs said lightly, not bothering to comment on a supposedly straight man finding another man attractive. He took the sketch from Wufei, one finger tracing the line of Duo's braid. 'Heero's wasting his time. I doubt if Duo's ever looked at another man since he met Treize.'

'Was Duo the one?' Wufei blushed faintly but pressed doggedly on. 'The love of your life?'

'Good lord, no. That would have been Treize.' He shrugged. 'We're a ridiculously incestuous little group, really, all in love with one another. Absurd.'

'Still?'

'Well, no. Not now. I had to get over him, somehow, once Duo turned up. Before that, I'd hoped that we'd get back together, you see. I'd been hoping that for rather a long time.'

'How did you finally manage to get over him?' Wufei asked, genuinely curious.

'Let me see. Rather a lot of one night stands, most of whom I tried to pretend were Treize. My painting. Lots of horribly self-pitying, drunken nights moaning to my friends about how I'd lost my life's love. I'm fortunate enough to have some very good friends, one of whom is Quatre. Then I suppose I started to realise how happy Duo made Treize, and then I started to like Duo himself, and I assure I fought against that damned hard. I'd tried to convince Treize that he was some opportunistic little gold-digger, which nearly cost me my friendship with him.' He shook his head. 'Duo's an impossible person to dislike, however much one fights against it. Somehow, we all ended up friends.' He blinked. 'Sorry, what did you ask me again?'

'I was just curious as to how you'd got over Treize.' Wufei put his empty wine glass down. He wasn't drunk; just nicely merry. It made it easy for him to take the few steps separating them, and put his arms around the other man's waist.

Zechs smiled down at him. 'It takes time. I wouldn't recommend most of what I did. Far better just to find someone new and fall in love.'

'I'm already in love with Quatre.'

'I know.' Zechs' lips, on his, were very soft and very warm. 'It's never easy, is it? To meet that one person who touches your soul and then to find out they have someone else? All we can do is hope, really.'

'Is this what we're doing?' He was so tall that Wufei had to reach up on his toes to kiss him. Taller than Trowa. 'Hoping?'

'Perhaps. Everyone needs a dream, don't you think? A hope to glow in the darkness.'

'Mmm.' Quatre did glow, Wufei thought a little hazily. But Zechs was here, and holding him, and his long, shining hair was drifting against Wufei's skin, and his kisses were fire and lightning and desire.


	29. Chapter 29

Disclaimer: I very sadly don't own part of Gundam Wing, and the only profit I make from writing is the sheer fun of it.

**Chapter 29:**

_In which Duo starts to think he's fallen down a rabbit hole…_

'Here you go, sweetheart.' Treize carefully manoeuvred the tray on to a small table without Laragh stealing the contents. 'One white hot chocolate with marshmallows.'

'Yum. Thank you.' Duo smiled up from his nest of cushions on the couch.

'Can I get you anything else?'

Duo patted the cushion beside him. 'Stay here for a minute. If there isn't something in the kitchen you have to do.'

Treize smiled lovingly down at him. 'I do rather think you take priority over dinner. Now, let's get comfortable.' Duo ended up lying on top of him, with his head tucked under Treize's chin and Treize's arms around him. 'How's this?'

'Mmm. That's nice.' Duo snuggled against him, letting his eyes drift closed as Treize began to stroke his hair.

It was something he would only ever admit to Treize in the deepest, darkest depths of midnight, but there was a part of the ultra-independent Duo Maxwell, the part that had come into being when he was seven years old and a catholic nun had cared for him like he was something to be treasured, that utterly adored being pampered.

And Treize loved doing it, which made them totally perfect for each other.

'How are you feeling?'

'Loved.' Duo opened his eyes, smiling past the faint ache in his skull. He'd been given meds at the hospital for the headaches, but the pain was bearable, and he'd lived with Trowa for long enough to have been infected by Tro's dislike for drugs.

'Good.'

'Yeah, it is pretty good.' Duo tangled the fingers of one hand in Treize's. 'Sorry I gave you such a scare.'

Treize squeezed gently. 'Well, I'm sure you didn't mean to attack a granite floor with your skull. Just don't do it again, please.'

'Ugh. Not planning to.'

'I'm very glad to hear it.'

They lay without talking for a few minutes, with Chopin playing softly in the background and Laragh's tail thumping against the floor, happy to have her two humans close.

'What is for dinner anyway?'

'Roasted monkfish. And Quatre said he'd bring dessert.'

'Cool. Who was that on the 'phone a minute ago?'

'A wrong number.'

'Another one? Weird.' Duo stretched blissfully as Treize found _that_ place on the back of his neck and stroked gently. 'Oh, that's good. I thought it might've been Tro. He said he'd be here for six and it's nearly half past.'

'I think Quatre may be corrupting him.'

'Little bit of corruption never hurt anyone.' Duo gave his partner a wink and then lowered his lashes demurely.

His doctor had sent him home with instructions to take things easy for a week or so. Duo had translated that as taking a couple of early nights and no heavy lifting. Treize had taken the more extreme interpretation that Duo wasn't to lift a finger, or any other part of his anatomy. He'd finally agreed to drop the total bed rest after Duo had argued he could rest just as well on the couch and he'd prefer not to receive visitors in their bedroom.

Unfortunately he was still sticking to the 'no sex' rule.

It hadn't been an issue for the first couple of days because Duo hadn't been in the mood anyway. But three days of abstinence – apart for a little bit of kissing and cuddling – was more than enough for anyone.

He had plans. A little bit of teasing and flirting during the evening, just to get Treize all warmed up and sap his will power. He gave his partner an artless smile, and shifted position slightly; a little reconnaissance. Always good to scope a place out first.

Treize lips curved appreciatively, another significant part of his body giving its own very definite version of a smile. Yes! Lift off! He moved again, just enough to slide against the 'smile' between Treize's legs, and then trailed one hand down his chest.

'Demon.' Treize caught the wandering fingers in one hand and kissed them. 'No.'

'No?' Duo tried for his best pout, combining it with fluttering eyelashes and a flick of his braid.

'_No_. You're not supposed to be doing anything strenuous for a while. You know that.'

Duo peeked up at him. 'If you did do all the hard work, I'd just have to lie there and enjoy.'

'Hmm. I have very, very little faith in your ability not to become more involved than that.'

'I'm sure you could find a clever way to keep me from exerting myself. Isn't that what handcuffs are for?'

Treize sighed. 'Sweetheart, the doctor said a week. It's only a few more days.'

'It's an eternity,' Duo huffed. 'People can die of sexual frustration.'

'I think you'll survive. You did have many years of practice before you met me.'

'_Before_ being the operative word!' Duo protested. 'And now I've got all those years to make up for.'

'Just…a….few…..more …..days,' Treize murmured, punctuating each word with a teasing kiss. 'You're always saying that you like to have things to look forward to.'

'Mmm.' Duo wound both arms around his neck, pressing closer. 'I also sort of like instant gratification. Please?'

'And there's the door bell.' Treize pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose and gently moved to stand up to answer it, Laragh trailing behind him.

Quatre was first through the door, with Trowa, laden down with carrier bags, a step behind. The blond bent down to give him one of those warm hugs that felt like being wrapped in sunshine. 'You look so much better than you did yesterday morning! Now, these are for you. You said you were bored being at home all day, so I got you some DVDs you might like, and some books.'

'Cool!' Duo beamed up at him. 'Thanks for that, Cat.'

Quatre laughed. 'Oh, it was no problem. Any excuse to go shopping. And there are a couple of other little things I got you.' He handed Duo a small carrier bag from his favourite café. 'One iced caramel latte. And…' He delved in one of the bags and produced a large cardboard box. 'My father flew back from New York this morning. I asked him if he could bring back something for you.'

'Real doughnuts!' Duo flung his arms around his friend's neck. Sanque had some of the finest patisseries in Europe but not one of them could make a decent doughnut. 'God, Quat, I totally love you.'

He emerged from the embrace to find Trowa and Treize staring at them, both wearing expressions of extreme oddness. Treize was the first to move, offering to get drinks; then Trowa said he wanted to spend a bit of time training Laragh before it got dark outside and they both vanished.

'Whoa.' Duo whistled. 'Is it just me or was that seriously weird?'

'Oh, it was adorable!' Quatre bubbled happily. 'They're actually jealous. How sweet!'

'Jealous? What?' Duo did a double take. 'Who?'

'Our respective partners. Well, you did throw your arms around me and say you loved me.'

'That's _stupid_. Why would Treize be jealous of _you_?'

'That's not very nice, Duo! I'm a very attractive person.'

'Oh, sorry, you know I didn't mean it like that.' He frowned. 'You really think that's what it was?'

'I hope so!' Quatre sighed blissfully. 'It's going to be so much fun if they are! Just think of the possibilities.'

'You're weird,' Duo said flatly.

'Your weird doughnut-bearing friend,' Quatre reminded him. 'Duo, I'm just joking. I don't really know what that was about. It was…rather odd, wasn't it?'

'Sure was. Cat, can I ask you something?'

'Of course you can.'

'It's sort of about Tro. Is everything OK with him? With you two?'

Quatre nodded. 'Everything's wonderful, actually. Well, apart from the fact he hardly ever talks about himself and it would be nice to have a boyfriend who occasionally confided in me. We did have a row the night you had your accident, but we made up, and he's even agreed to come to my parents' party. Why?'

'Oh, I don't know. Probably nothing. He's just been a bit off the past couple of days. Not that I've seen much of him; he was supposed to come over yesterday evening and he called with some lame excuse. Was he with you?'

'No. I met Wufei for dinner last night.' Quatre had the grace to look a tiny bit self-conscious.

'Oh, for God's sake,' Duo groaned. 'I thought that was all off. Zechs was here this morning and he was raving about his date with Chang.' Duo wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that. On the one hand, if Zechs was in the picture, Wufei wouldn't be roaming the streets interfering in other people's relationships. The only drawback was that as Zechs' boyfriend, he'd be around a lot, and maybe he'd bring his weird friend into the circle.

'Oh, yes. Wufei told me all about it. They must look wonderful together; don't you think? And it doesn't mean we can't still be friends; it'll actually be easier this way. If Wufei has a boyfriend, Trowa won't mind me spending so much time with him.'

Duo shrugged. 'I guess. And Chang obviously goes for blonds. You don't mind the two of them hooking up?'

'Not at all,' Quatre said earnestly. 'Wufei and I are just friends, Duo. I've told him there can't be anything else.' Then he spoilt it all by giving the scary smile that usually presaged some horrific announcement. 'Actually, I don't think he and Zechs are really suitable for each other, but that's all right. I have a different plan for him.'

'No! No plans.' Duo flipped open the lid of the doughnut box and reached for one. If Quatre was going to go off on one of his insane schemes, large amounts of sugar would be needed.

'No! They're for dessert.'

'I thought they were for Duo?'

'For Duo's dessert,' Quatre said firmly.

'Huh. Were you this mean to Tro when he was sick?'

'I was perfectly lovely to Trowa. Poor darling; he needs someone to look after him.'

'He's actually pretty good at looking after himself, Quat. And I'm not getting involved in any of your crazy plans, so don't think it.'

'Piffle. Of course you're going to help. I need you. It'll be such fun! And stop trying to steal doughnuts!' Quatre slapped his hand away from the box. 'They're for _after_ dinner. I think I should put them away, actually.'

'Fine. Just slap the guy with the gaping wound in his skull,' Duo grumbled. Quatre's laughter trailed after him as he headed for the door, doughnut box firmly in hand. Trowa came in just as the blond was leaving; they did look good together, Duo decided, watching them. Quatre tilted his smiling face up to be kissed, and Trowa obliged, looking more than happy to do so. Tro wasn't usually into the whole PDA thing, and Quatre liked flirting but never seemed to carry it any farther.

Somehow they looked like they totally belonged together.

'Hey, Max.' Trowa wasn't looking at him though; his one visible eye firmly fixed on Quatre's departing back view, specifically the little diamanté heart on the back pocket of his jeans.

'Hey, Tro,' Duo grinned. 'Nice ass.'

'Don't call my boyfriend an ass.' Trowa came and sat on the edge of his sofa, reaching over to ruffle Duo's hair.

'Wow, you said the 'B' word.' Duo marvelled, pulling himself upright, not wanting Trowa to see him lounging about like an invalid. 'You actually said it. In public.'

Trowa shrugged. 'Well, he is, isn't he? About Laragh, have you been giving her sweets again?'

'No! We've been really careful. Oh, shit!' He glanced down; the mug of chocolate, which he'd totally forgotten about, was clean as a whistle.

'Shit's right,' Trowa said wryly. 'Still, she made it outside in time.'

'Well, that's good. So what's up with you?'

'Nothing.' He dropped his gaze as he said it though, looking fixedly at his shoes.

'Don't give me that crap,' Duo said firmly. 'I've been lying here with a hole in my head for the past three days, and this is only the second time you've been to see me since I got out of hospital. There's _something_ wrong. Did you and Treize have a fight? Or have I done something wrong?'

'No. Of course you haven't.'

Duo waited for him to get his thoughts in order, not in the least expecting what he'd say next.

'You know Chang?'

'Quat's Chang? Sorry, you know what I mean. Yeah, I know him a bit. He's a jerk. I didn't think you knew him, apart from seeing him at that bike rally. What's he got to do with anything?' Oh. Suddenly he knew. 'You're being an idiot, Tro. I know Quat's a bit flirty and all.' OK, that was a serious understatement; Quatre Winner would flirt with a good looking corpse in the absence of anyone better, if it got him a little bit of attention. 'I know what he's like. He'd never actually _do_ anything.'

'I know that.' Trowa sighed heavily. 'It's not about Quatre. It's me. I like Chang.'

'No _way_,' Duo breathed. 'Tro, you can't. I mean, you've only met the guy for about two seconds.'

'It was a bit more than that,' Trowa confessed. 'You know I told you he helped me out after I took a header at the bike race? He patched me up in the truck, and he sort of came on to me.'

'Bastard,' Duo hissed. 'That's so fucked up. Quat's supposed to be the one he's after, and Chang damn well knows you're taken. I hope you decked him.'

'I kissed him.'

'No _fucking_ way.'

'There wasn't any fucking. It was just a kiss.'

Duo gaped at him. 'You have a _boyfriend_. The high maintenance blond guy; remember him? And you can't fall for Chang of all people. You do know his little hobby is helping the police out with art crimes? Oh, of course you do. That's probably part of the attraction. For God's _sake_, Trowa!'

Trowa shook his head, hair falling every which way. 'I can't exactly control who I'm attracted to, Max.'

'No, but you can damn well control acting on those feelings.'

And Trowa was good at that. He had, Duo supposed, had practice. With Trowa Barton, emotions weren't so much repressed as locked behind steel doors, buried under concrete, strung with barbed wire, and sunk to the lowest point of the ocean with giant sea monsters guarding them.

'D'you really like him? I mean, if you do, you can't just keep stringing Quat along. I know he comes across as all bouncy and shiny like nothing really matters, but he's nuts about you. You'll really hurt him if you just dump him.'

'You know I wouldn't do that to him. I don't know if I even like Chang all that much. He's got a superiority complex the size of Iceland; you can tell he's used to getting his own way all the time.'

'Well, it was just a physical thing for you, right? All that adrenalin and stuff from the bike race kicking in? Just forget him and concentrate on Blondie.'

'Blondie wants us to be friends.' Trowa groaned at the thought. 'And I have already seen him since then. He called on Monday morning, a few hours before you got there.' His lips quirked slightly. 'He lectured me on looking after myself and he made me soup.'

'Yeah? That's so screwed up! What does Quatre think of his admirer playing Florence Nightingale with you?'

'I haven't told him.'

'Right. Tro, can I say something? You are fucking insane!'

'What Quatre doesn't know won't hurt him. I've made it very clear to Wufei that nothing is going to happen between us.'

'Sounds like it already has,' Duo said sarcastically. 'What with the kissing and soup making and all.'

'Just give it a rest, Max, OK? I didn't tell you any of this because I wanted a lecture. I don't get involved in your relationships. Stay out of mine.'

Duo sniffed, pulling his braid over one shoulder and smacking Trowa with it. '_Excuse_ me? Since when have you not been involved in everything I do, Barton? And I'm sorry if you don't like it, but that means I get to stick my nose into your business.'

'Can you at least keep your damn hair out of my face?' Trowa grumbled, grabbing the braid and giving it a tug. 'Everything's a weapon with you, isn't it, Maxwell?'

'Yup!' Duo grinned up at him. 'May I have my hair back now?'

'Are you going to back off?'

'No.'

'No hair then,' Trowa grinned, giving it another gentle pull. 'You don't normally get worked up about who I'm dating.'

Duo sniffed. 'Most of the guys you hook up have sell-by dates stamped on their butts, and you're only with them for a bit of fun. Quatre's not like that. I think it would be nice for you to have someone around who you actually care about.'

'I do. You know that.' His eyes were suddenly that deep jade colour, so dark they almost blended with the iris, and his hand was cupping the back of Duo's neck. It was…weird. Then he abruptly let Duo go. 'You can stop worrying about Chang. I've dealt with it. Now, can we talk about something else?'

'If you're not going to keep my hair hostage again!' Duo settled back on his mound of cushions, trying to lighten things up after that freakily intense little moment. He'd thought for a second that Trowa was actually going to kiss him. Properly. Hopefully, it was just the hole in his skull misinterpreting stuff. 'You and Quat are looking pretty cosy together right now. So? Anything you want to tell me?'

'No.' Trowa tried a rather half-hearted glare, and then gave up and grinned at him. 'We've had a long discussion about it, and we've decided to wait until we know each other a little better before taking our relationship to a more intimate level.'

'That's a direct quote?'

'Word for word.' Trowa shrugged. 'It's OK. He lets me do other stuff.'

'Whoa. Way too much information,' Duo decided.

'You did ask, Max. Where did he go anyway?'

'Kitchen. Talking to Treize, I guess.'

'Actually, I'm here,' Quatre announced brightly. 'Dinner's ready. Where would you like to eat, Duo? We can bring you a tray in here if you'd prefer.'

'I'm not that much of an invalid. I'll come in to the dining room.'

It was nice, having them all there; the three people he probably cared about most in the world. Trowa was quiet, like he always was around Treize, but he smiled at a couple of Quat's jokes, and actually joined in the conversation a few times. Once he even agreed with a comment that Treize had made.

And the two of them vehemently protested Duo's little suggestion that he take a stroll down to the beach after the meal.

'I can't believe you two are actually ganging up on me! That's not fair!'

'It's raining, love.' Treize squeezed his hand gently. 'The path's going to be slippery and I'd rather you didn't have another accident before you've even recovered.'

'He's right,' Trowa chimed in, and Duo started to wonder if he'd fallen down a rabbit hole or something. This was just way too surreal to be true.


End file.
